Tainting the Innocent
by Blaze Freyidi
Summary: Harry feels like he’s in hell, Draco’s living through a nightmare. Can they help each other before it’s too late?
1. Secret Meeting

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters. 'Sides, you'd get more blood out of a turnip then you would money out of me! HA!

**AUTHORS NOTE:** I SOOOOOOO love HP/DM slash! So I wrote one. Enjoy.

**SUMMARY: **Harry feels like he's in hell, Draco's living through a nightmare. Can they help each other before it's too late to save either one?

**_Tainting the Innocent_**

**Chapter One**

WHAM! A buxom red-head ran straight into Draco while trying to escape a magic duel that had sprung up over one of the leather couches. Glancing over her bare shoulder, she was quite glad to see who she had bumped into.

"Hey ya handsome," she slurred drunkenly. She threw her arms around his neck and plastered her generous figure against him. "Wanna ride?" She asked this while grinding her hips against Draco's, a decent attempt at a lecherous smile twisting her face. Draco dropped his hands to her waist, pulling her closer for just a moment. She WAS quite attractive, a fourth year if he wasn't mistaken, and he was sorely tempted. It was not to be, however, so he regretfully slid his hands up to her wrists, disengaged her hold on his neck, and gently shook his head with a wry grin.

"Maybe later, darling, but right now I have business to attend to." He sidestepped the pouting fourth year and went to continue his trek across the Slytherin common room. Pansy Parkinson was his next human obstacle.

"Drrraaaacoooo," she whined, latching onto his arm. "You never want to play with us anymore. This is a smashing party and you want to _work_! What could possibly be that important?"

Draco glanced around the richly appointed common room before answering her. Everywhere he looked his housemates were chugging various forms of alcohol, gorging themselves on food filched from the house elves, or contorting into a multitude of compromising positions. With and without their clothing. He didn't see a "smashing party" as Pansy put it, he saw children desperately playing at hedonism before facing a dreaded future. Many of their parents served the Dark Lord and they were expected to follow that same path. Few wished to, however, since the hatred that fueled their elders seemed a distant thing. While none of them liked muggles, they _were_ inferior creatures after all, none of those pathetic things had done harm to the magical community for centuries. It seemed pointless, to Draco at least, to go about destroying people who would be well suited to serving their betters.

Despite what he has repeatedly said to Granger, simply done to enrage her male companions, he really saw no problem with half bloods and muggle borns. The pure-bloods were dying out, especially with this war in full swing and pure-bloods being killed by the handfuls. Production could not keep up with consumption, as it were. If the wizarding world was to continue, then these people were necessary.

He was brought back to reality when Pansy tugged his arm. She did not appreciate being ignored for so long. He turned his most charming smile on the well meaning busy-body and purred his response. "Why, Pansy, darling, I wouldn't call it "work" exactly," he said with a manly chuckle and a wink. Pansy's mouth formed a perfect "O" of surprise, and then her face turned sly.

"Why you naughty little boy! You're shagging someone from another house, aren't you!" She didn't even wait for his response before charging on. "Ooooh, Drrraaaacoooo, who is it? You must tell me!"

Happy that his ploy worked as planed, he adopted an expression of wide eyed innocence. "Pansy, love, what ever gave you that idea? Besides, even if it were true, a Malfoy does not kiss and tell. It wouldn't be seemly." With that, he placed a kiss on her pug nose and loped away with a whistle on his lips.

Being a Slytherin did not mean that he naturally favored the wet cold of the dungeons; he was chilled and miserable despite the thick cloak wrapped around his shoulders. Walking through these labyrinthine passages was always confusing, no matter that he has had years of practice. Grumbling to himself about stupid letters and interfering gits, he walked on.

Yesterday, during the breakfast post, he had received a missive from an owl he did not recognize. The letter tied to its leg spoke of sharing urgent news with him, and demanded that he meet this mysterious person tonight in an unused classroom. The first thought to run through his conceited mind was that this was a love-struck schoolmate trying to get him alone and into his pants. To his credit, it did tend to happen a lot. Just for a lark, he decided to go along with things; maybe this secret admirer was breathtakingly beautiful. Now, though, he was beginning to dislike the idea vehemently. The fact that his family had many enemies and that he should always be on guard for kidnapping attempts had been drilled into his head since he'd worn nappies. What if this was a radical who had decided to eliminate the offspring of powerful Death Eaters, despite said offsprings' own political leanings?

A troublesome thought flickered across his mind: Could Dumbledore protect him from such an attack? Even more disturbing: Would he even try? His father had constantly plotted to get the old coot sacked, and was one of the Dark Lord's most trusted followers. Draco himself had never been all puppies and sunshine where the headmaster was concerned, and it was widely suspected that he was to follow his father's example.

He had arrived at the ironclad door while lost in thought. Staring straight ahead, he realized he had a dilemma. Go in and either get laid or be attacked and brutally murdered. Obviously, the second was not as appealing. Palming his wand just in case, Draco breathed deeply to settle his nerves and knocked. Dumbledore opened the door. _Eww_, Draco thought with a shudder. _Please let him want to kill me!_


	2. Loyalties In Question

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters. 'Sides, you'd get more blood out of a turnip then you would money out of me! HA!

**AUTHORS NOTE:** Don't you just love it when someone posts a story with a lump of chapters instead of just one? I do too, so enjoy!

**SUMMARY: **Harry feels like he's in hell, Draco's living through a nightmare. Can they help each other before it's too late to save either one?

**FROM THE LAST ****CH.** Staring at the door, he realized he had a dilemma. Go in and possibly get laid, or be attacked and brutally murdered. Obviously, the second was not as appealing. Palming his wand just in case, Draco breathed deeply to settle his nerves and knocked. Dumbledore opened the door. _Eww_, Draco thought with a shudder. _Please let him want to kill me!_

**_Tainting the Innocent_**

**_Chapter Two_**

"Wonderful to see you, Draco," Dumbledore said with a smile, waving the boy in and closing the door quietly after checking that he hadn't been followed.

"Sorry I'm a bit late, Headmaster, I was held up deciding if it would be wise to come." He spoke with his usual cool detachment. Not a chance he would let the old man know of the weakness in his knees and the nausea in his stomach.

"Yes, in these times the path of caution is the wisest. I am glad you decided to come, though"

"Thank you, sir. Now, if I may ask, why did you need to speak with me in such secrecy?"

That simple question seemed to weigh heavily on the headmaster. He sighed loudly, walked to one of the tables and slowly took a seat on the edge. "Sit down, Draco," he said, hooking his ankle on the nearest chair and sliding it towards the boy. "I had thought this discussion would be better coming from someone else, seeing as how you utterly despise me, but I was the most appropriate at the moment."

"I don't-" Draco tried to speak in his defense, but Dumbledore waved at him to stop.

"There's no need to lie, my boy. The entire school knows it for truth, so what would be the point. Now, please sit down, and I shall explain why all the cloak and dagger was necessary." Draco did as directed, sitting with his back straight as a rail, trying to look older and more mature. He new the headmaster was not given to theatrics, and so whatever caused this hubbub was bound to be important.

A powerful sigh erupted from the older man as he gathered his thoughts. Time ticked on and Draco began to relax his rigid posture. He had even begun to drift into a daydream of what would have happened with that red head when Dumbledore started speaking. "Draco, I need to know where your loyalties lie. Do you follow Voldemort and your father, or do you support the Resistance?" It had never occurred to the Slytherin that anyone would actually ask him that. He had always assumed that his actions would speak for themselves, but then realized that maybe they already had. He'd certainly never given anyone reason to believe he was a sympathizer; teasing the muggle borns, defending his father against any who spoke ill of him, and bullying their Wonder Boy. Looking back, he could see how his position was a bit cloudy. He'd never walked around with a button that proclaimed "I HEART Voldie", but he hadn't exactly spoken against the tyrant either. Just as he was about to answer though, something occurred to him.

"Why are you asking me now, sir? The war has been going on since this past summer and yet I returned to school. It would not be feasible for the Dark Lord to run a Death Eater base out of Hogwarts, what with all of the magical wards."

"Answer me first, Mr. Malfoy. I assure you I have my reasons." An evasive Dumbledore always had something _very_ juicy to hide, but Draco decided not to tell him the complete truth if he wanted to play these games.

"I don't care one way or another about this pointless war or that crazed mud-blood. Following him is likely to get me killed or worse, and I'm quite fond of my life as it is, thank you." The old man did not miss the flippant tone. He stared at Draco contemplatively, and the boy thought he hadn't believed him about his allegiances. He met the man's eyes with an icy stare, pulling his best "Malfoy" face. Dumbledore seemed to have decided to continue speaking about whatever had made him summon Draco here.

"Good, good," he muttered quietly, more like he was trying to convince himself. "Reasonable, if a bit shallow. Well, Draco," he said louder, "the reason that this has become so important now, as opposed to earlier in the year, is that your father escaped from Azkaban with three other leading Death Eaters two nights ago."

Draco just sat there for a moment, staring back at the man without comprehension. "What," he finally asked quietly. "Why haven't I been told? Or read of it in the papers?" This quiet reaction seemed strange for the volatile Slytherin. How he felt about this news wasn't clear. It was possible that he was glad for his father's escape or angry that he hadn't been informed before hand. Maybe it was an act and Malfoy new exactly where his father was hiding. The thought that Draco Malfoy was afraid of his father's escape was dismissed immediately.

Startled by his student's ambiguous reaction, he continued. "The ministry put a choke on the story so as not to alarm the public or alert potential allies. They want these men with a passion and will take no chances. Draco, his group killed three aurors, seriously injured another three, and kidnapped a fellow inmate. The ministry incarcerated this man for grifting muggles with his magic and thereby threatening the discovery of the wizarding world. He was also once a Death Eater, one of those who turned their backs on Voldemort when he disappeared." His expression became grave and he grasped his hands together tightly. "In light of your reaction, I can guess what your answer will be, but I must ask. Did you have any previous knowledge of Lucius Malfoy's escape attempt? Do you know where he could be hiding now? Do you know if this man could still be alive?"

Draco went pale as realization hit him. They thought he'd had something to do with his father's escape. That's why he was being questioned about his loyalties now. The thought of how this interview could have gone if he'd had any other headmaster than Dumbledore frightened him to the core. He would have been taken into custody and questioned by aurors under veratiserum or worse. The fact that he was a minor probably wouldn't have held much weight. He was the son of a powerful Death Eater and, even he had to admit, a git.

Of course, no one took into account that they had almost lost the ancestral estate and fortune before Narcissa proved to the Ministries satisfaction that she held no sympathies for Voldemort. They only saw the image of a younger Lucius, and probably took all of his schoolboy pranks on the Golden Trio as the war tactics of Mini-Death Eaters. The ministry would never believe the truth. Fudge would convince himself that Dumbledore was trying to protect his student and take matters into his own hands. The idea of what would happen then caused the nausea to return even worse than before. Shell shocked, he rose from the chair and exited the room, never realizing that he hadn't answered the questions.


	3. Feur Hermione

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters. 'Sides, you'd get more blood out of a turnip then you would money out of me! HA!

**AUTHORS NOTE:** Yea, a Harry chapter! I'm all happiness and stuff! J

**SUMMARY: **Harry feels like he's in hell, Draco's living through a nightmare. Can they help each other before it's too late to save either one?

**FROM THE LAST ****CH.** The ministry would never believe the truth. Fudge would convince himself that Dumbledore was trying to protect his student and take matters into his own hands. The idea of what would happen then caused the nausea to return even worse than before. Shell shocked, he rose from the chair and exited the room, never realizing that he hadn't answered the questions.

**_Tainting the Innocent_**

**_Chapter Three_**

_A tyrant, a bloody tyrant,_ Harry thought fiercely. Hermione had been forcing him and Ron to do flash card drills for various subjects since summer break. With mid-terms _only_ a few months away and finals just around the corner after those, they apparently needed help. She reasoned that since NEWTS classes were so difficult she had the god-given the right to be even more anal about their schoolwork than before. A mutiny was in the works, make no mistake about that!

Harry had somehow managed to receive an O in potions, thereby qualifying him for auror training. No one could have been more astonished then Snape or Harry, though Hermione claimed it was all thanks to her marvelous tutoring skills. Ron had just barely missed the O, scoring an A instead. The Os he did receive, however, qualified him to train as a trap-springer for Gringgots Bank. Hermione, of course, scored perfectly on everything, but decided to go along with muggle relations as her career. She figured, who better than a muggle-born to deal with muggle issues.

All this was very well and good, Harry was proud of his friends and happy for himself, but why did Hermione have to torture them with all of this studying and extra homework? There were better things he could be doing, like flying about on his Firebolt. Lots more fun, that, than sitting here going over the properties of manticore bladder linings or ogre toenail clippings. Separately, the two ingredients sound disgusting (not to mention dangerous). Not surprisingly, when mixed, they produce a potion that causes extreme vomiting. Quite popular among assassins and such since it is undetectable and death follows ingestion shortly if the antidote is not administered. He was slightly confused on why Snape would be teaching them this, and all of the students resolved to be careful of what they ate and drank for a while. The git was still promising to poison a student one of these days, and that potion would be very unpleasant.

Harry had just snuck a peak at Hermione, trying to figure the best time to rush her and escape, when a gaggle of Gryffindors tumbled through the portrait laughing hysterically. Seamus led the group in a stumbling trek across the common room, whooping and hollering incoherently, the smell of fire whiskey evident. Ooooh, the look Hermione gave him!

"Seamus, what in the world do you think you are doing? Those are first years, and you have them roaring drunk!"

"Awww, c'mon 'Mione, it was just a bit of just a bit of o-orientation. Not gonna hurt them none. Promise."

"Don't be absurd, of course it's going to hurt them. They are children, and as such should not even be consuming alcohol. And you got them drunk!" Her voice steadily rose as she said that last sentence. She looked shocked that she was yelling, Hermione makes it a rule never to raise her voice, and took a second to compose herself. "Seamus, I have to give you and all of your…little friends a detention for this."

"What!" The young man looked appalled. His mouth started working as he tried to come up with an argument that would change her mind, but the fire whiskey slowed his thoughts. Finally, he caught on something. "But Hermione, McGonagall'll kill me," he explained slowly, as if speaking to a child. He seemed to think that took care of that.

"Well, I am sorry, but you should have thought of that before you contributed to the delinquency of minors. Your self included, Seamus." His eyes grew owlishly, his bottom lip began to tremble, and he whimpered like a puppy. Everyone knew Hermione was a sucker for the puppy face. She gave an explosive sigh and threw up her hands in exasperation. "Fine!" He looked happy enough to spit. The puppy face worked every time. "I'll come up with a much less incriminating reason for the detentions. Maybe I'll say you organized them to dissolve canary crèmes in each dorm's pitcher of water." He didn't look so happy anymore. He tried the face one more time, but Hermione gave him a withering glare. "That is as much as you get, so quit with the whimpers."

Deciding to be happy with his mediocre fortune, he sauntered over to the trio with a goofy grin stretching his face, grabbed Hermione, whipped her down into a dramatic dip, and kissed the daylights out of her. He then proceeded to spin her around, slap her bottom, and exclaim, "That's a good girl." Ron and Harry made a run for it before the fireworks began to fly, although they did hear Seamus yelping in pain as Hermione threw one Sparks charm after another at _his_ bottom. The two of them hadn't realized Hermione even KNEW some of the words she was yelling at that git


	4. Escape the Shrew

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters. 'Sides, you'd get more blood out of a turnip then you would money out of me! HA!

**AUTHORS NOTE:** I can't stop going over in my head what I want to happen later on in this story. Sometimes I even start acting it out. Is it bad when your dog starts looking at you like your nutszo?

**SUMMARY: **Harry feels like he's in hell, Draco's living through a nightmare. Can they help each other before it's too late to save either one?

**FROM THE LAST CH.:** Deciding to be happy with his mediocre fortune, he sauntered over to the trio with a goofy grin stretching his face, grabbed Hermione, whipped her down into a dramatic dip, and kissed the daylights out of her. He then proceeded to spin her around, slap her bottom, and exclaim, "That's a good girl." Ron and Harry made a run for it before the fireworks began to fly, although they did hear Seamus yelping in pain as Hermione threw one Sparks charm after another at _his_ bottom. The two of them hadn't realized Hermione even KNEW some of the words she was yelling at that git

**_Tainting the Innocent_**

**_Chapter Four_**

Once on the other side of the Fat Lady Harry and Ron summoned two elementals. The sylph spread its essence to sense any approaching teachers or prefects on rounds and the salamander provided a bright light that didn't blind them in darkness, unlike a _lumos_ spell. These nifty little creatures were a benefit of Hermione's academic boot camp. They had found, during one of the enforced routine library sessions, accounts of certain sects performing magic solely through their elemental servants. It claimed that some of the most famous and powerful of these Masters were muggles and that this was the only branch open to the non-magical. The trick was to develop the will enough to manipulate natural energies to summon elementals, and then to control them after that. The danger was if you over reached your abilities and summoned a creature whose will was greater than your own; then you probably died. Wizards, however, could use magic instead of their will to control their elementals, which was much more reliable. After reading all of this, Hermione had insisted that the three of them learn the technique and then teach it to the DA.

Dumbledore had finally found one Professor Tamaira Dupont to fill the Defense Against the Dark Arts position, but decided to keep the student organization running. Everyone had decided that Dumbledore's Army had done a sufficient job in preparing the students for their OWLS exams, and saw no reason why it shouldn't continue under faculty guidance. This helped lessen inter-house rivalries, diminished the sense of helplessness among some of the students, and got Harry off the hook. He was still the unofficial leader, but each house, Slytherin included, had elected instructors from among the seventh years. Every Sunday the staff and the four House Representatives were to decide upon the lessons for the following week. They had wanted Harry to be a part of this committee, but he declined.

Those members of the DA who looked up to Harry, however, would be shocked to know that at this moment he was slinking around and casting furtive glances over his shoulder for that distinctive bushy head. That he was, in fact, afraid of a girl. Ron wanted to laugh at the spectacle his friend made, but was in no position to judge, seeing as how he was doing and fearing the exact same thing.

"Oy, Harry, where are we going to hide from her? You know she'll sniff us out like a blood hound after dealing with Seamus if we don't find a bang up location." Ron looked quite worried at the prospect of Hermione forcing his poor brain to absorb even more knowledge. He figured it was about filled up and that important stuff, like stats for the Chudley Cannons, would be given the heave.

"Honestly, I hadn't thought that far ahead. My main priority was escape." He seemed agitated as they took one of the hidden passages to the next floor down.

"Har-ry," Ron whined with a cracked voice.

"What," Harry snapped back. "If you're so anxious not to be found, you come up with a hiding place!" Harry was quite tired of always having to think of everything. For once, he wished Ron would just grow some bullocks and take the initiative.

"Bu-but you always-"

"Exactly, _I always,_" he yelled, spinning around to face the shocked redhead. "Well fine, here's my idea: how about we go jump in the lake and ask those pleasant merfolk to protect us from the Homework Nazi. Better yet, we can run down to the dungeons and hide in Slytherin house. She'd never think to look for us there. Do those sound like viable choices? No, well too bad." Ron stood there, mouth working silently. Harry had been having these flashes of temper off and on since the beginning of summer break, but it was always a shock when one hit.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to always rely on you." He looked so contrite saying this that Harry felt like a complete ass. "Um…well…since we're trying to hide from school work, how about we do it in plain sight. The library? We can look up some of those potions and charms the twins want for their new line of gag cosmetics."

Harry couldn't help but laugh at this. "Let me get this straight: you want to go to the library to do research when we just escaped Hermione?" Ron began to look uncertain about his choice, and Harry would have none of that. "Works for me. Let's book it before she finds us." Ron rolled his eyes at the pun, and hurried after his friend.

They did make a decent bit of progress with those potions and charms, but Hermione found them anyway.

The next morning at breakfast Hermione announced that the boys would be free of their scheduled study session for the next few days. Pounding them in the heads with books was interfering with her own study habits, and she needed to finish all her homework for this quarter. She would inform them when the regular meetings would resume. Having said that she fled to the library.

"You know what that was about, don't you," Ginny Weasley asked Harry and her brother. The two of them stared at her blankly, clearly more interested in their sausages than her theories.

"Hermione wanting to finish all of the assignments for the quarter before they're assigned," Harry bravely volunteered in a small voice.

Ginny rolled her eyes at male stupidity. "You hurt her feelings, the way you've been hiding. She's hoping that a few days rest will make you more willing to cooperate."

"We wouldn't be hiding if she weren't so bloody unbearable," Ron snarled to his little sister, bits of said sausage flying from his mouth. Harry nodded in agreement, holding a hand up in defense of the airborne food.

"She does it only because she cares, you prat! The way you two go about your schoolwork, she's justifiably afraid you'll flunk out. Now, looking at things from a Hermione point of view; can you really blame her for riding you hard?"

Ron looked like he was settling in for a long bout of arguing, so Harry put a hand to his arm to stop the tirade. He didn't like it that they had hurt their friend's feelings, and the fact that Ginny had to point this out made him slightly ill. "We'll do better once she sets everything up again, but the three of us have to discuss her lightening up a bit, too. Can you tell her that, Ginny? Please." His reward for diplomacy was a winning Weasley grin as he tucked back into his breakfast.

Neville Longbottom came ambling into the Great Hall as everyone started getting ready to head to class. He looked a bit ruffled and sleepy, but otherwise perfectly content. "Neville, where's your school pack," Seamus asked. "Class starts in just a few minutes, mate." Neville's eyes grew enormous, fear flooding his face as he looked from one Gryffindor to another. He glanced around the Hall and saw that some of the other students did indeed seem to be packing up for class.

"Bu-bu-but today's Sunday, it has to be! I've kept such careful track with that magical calendar Grams sent me. I…it _has_ to be Sunday." He turned pleading eyes on his housemates, silently begging them to agree with him.

"No, Neville," Ginny said gently as Lavender giggled loudly. "Today's Monday. You have double transfigurations this morning."

"Oh, oh no." The poor boy looked as if he wanted to cry. "I-I've got to go grab it." He turned away muttering about stupidity, Death by McGonagall, and sausages.

"Poor Neville," Ginny murmured, shaking her head sadly, as she rapidly built sausage sandwiches. "Here, Harry," she handed the sandwiches to him tied up in a napkin as she stood up from the table. "Can you give him these once he gets to class? Just save him a seat next to you or something. You know how missing breakfast throws off his whole day." Harry quirked an eyebrow as she hurried away while Ron just looked dumbstruck.

"What the bloody hell was that about," Ron asked bewildered.

"That might have been every girl's worst nightmare." Ron looked even more bewildered by his friend's cryptic response, so Harry clarified. "I do believe that Ginny just became her mother."

**AUTHORS NOTE:** Dadadummmmm! AAAAAAAAAh! Noooooo, not Ginny! The horror. The horror!


	5. Battle of the Boys

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters. 'Sides, you'd get more blood out of a turnip then you would money out of me! HA!

**AUTHORS NOTE: **Hey ya, peoples. I am obviously the author. That is all.

**SUMMARY: **Harry feels like he's in hell, Draco's living through a nightmare. Can they help each other before it's too late to save either one?

**FROM THE LAST ****CH.** "That might have been every girl's worst nightmare." Ron looked even more bewildered by his friend's cryptic response, so Harry clarified. "I do believe that Ginny just became her mother."

556-2553

**_Tainting the Innocent_**

**_Chapter Five_**

As Harry walked down the corridor alone, he grumbled about how much he hated Mondays. All of his classes-Transfiguration, Potions, Charms, and Defense Against the Dark Arts-were doubles, and all of them with Slytherin. They also had one of the thrice-weekly DA meetings today, which seemed too much, but was thankfully not Harry's decision to make. Occasionally, the officers of the DA would consult Harry, since he had founded the club, but he was no longer responsible for the entire thing. Gryffindor had elected Brannon Harquin, Ravenclaw Cho Chang, Pugsley Thistlewood was from Hufflepuff, and Trent Burmsdale led Slytherin. There had been an intense argument among the original members on whether or not to allow Slytherins, but Harry had used his unwanted executive power and overruled them. He said, and Dumbledore agreed, that the main objective of the DA was to lessen the rift between the different Houses, and that denying membership to Slytherins went against that purpose. There had been plenty of grumbling, but it seemed to be working out all right.

He stopped suddenly, and let out a deep sigh. He would much rather be cutting through the air on his broom then on his way to a meeting. He didn't like to be surrounded by all of those people. Some reporter for the Daily Prophet had gotten his hands on a summary of the prophecy involving Harry and Voldemort. He sold this story to every major newspaper in the wizarding world, and now everyone new that a sixteen year old boy was their only hope for salvation. No pressure, of course. Schoolmates claim that he is "just Harry", but he can see it in their eyes that they expected the moon from him. Even the Slytherins have started treating him with a certain amount of respect.

His friends tried to pretend they don't feel the same as everyone else, but even Ron and Hermione have started treating Harry as if he were a precious commodity. They had been angry with him at first, once they learned that he had kept parts of the prophecy from them, but now they tried to make sure he was guarded at all times. Even when by himself, like now, he still never seemed to be truly alone.

Oddly enough, the only person who had yet to change how he treated The Boy Who Lived was Draco Malfoy. He was just as much of an ass as before, as if he couldn't be bothered to give a damn. This small bit of stability in Harry's world was refreshing, even if the constant antagonism was annoying. It had gotten to where the normalcy of their clashes was almost something worth looking forward to.

Harry continued on to the DA meeting lost in thought, reluctance slowing his step. He was still one floor away from the Room of Requirement when he heard angry muttering coming from behind him. He turned and saw a very cross Malfoy stomping down the corridor in a very un-Malfoyish way.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with you, ferret?" The blonde was startled into a hop and gave an undignified squeak. He quickly regained his icy demeanor, however, and glared as Harry bent over with laughter. "Malfoy, please, do that noise again!"

"I most certainly will not…Why the hell are you laughing," he asked imperiously then forced through gritted teeth, "it was _not_ funny!"

"Yes," Harry said, finally calming down. "Yes, actually, it was."

"Just shut up," he retorted wittily.

"Ooo, ouch," Harry responded.

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose and let loose a mighty sigh. "I don't even know why I came here. I knew I'd encounter your stupidity one way or another." He looked quite put upon. "I'm much too nice for my own good," he finished with a disgruntled huff.

"Riiiight, you're the nicest bloke I know, Drakey ol' buddy ol' pal."

"I _know_ you did not just dare to call me 'Drakey'." Malfoy looked like he would like nothing more than to jab his wand in Harry's eye. "Because if I am mistaken, you will pay."

"Oh no, Drakey, I'm afwaid," Harry said in a squeaky falsetto. His face then shifted from vapid to dangerous as he went nose to nose with the Slytherin. "Don't threaten me, Malfoy. I can take you without breaking a sweat."

"Really? Even without your little fan club to back you up?"

"I'm not the one who's almost always shadowed by hired muscle. Do they even like you, or are they willing to put up with anyone as long as the pay's good?"

Malfoy smirked. "I could say the same about that mudblood and the Weasel. Must make them pretty popular, being all chummy with _the_ Harry Potter." He saw that he had hit a mark and went for blood. "I'll bet that none of your so called friends actually care a fig about _you_, they're just in it for the kicks." Before he'd even finished, Harry shoved hard, causing him to bounce off the opposite wall. Shocked, Draco just stood there for a moment, but then laid into his rival vigorously. They crashed to the floor, fists and feet bashing into one another. Both started bleeding from various cuts and scrapes, but were too intent on causing as much damage as possible to notice.

They rolled around on the floor until Harry came up on top, ready to throw a mighty punch straight into the other boy's nose. Suddenly, Draco twisted, throwing Harry off balance, and flipped him to the floor face first, straddling his back with a hand holding down his head. The both of them were breathing heavily, blood dripping down their faces and onto the floor.

"Say 'uncle', Potty," Draco taunted.

"Go to hell, you bastard!" With that, Harry swung an elbow and caught Malfoy in the side of the head. Their fight continued for a few minutes more until both boys fell apart, too exhausted to even properly insult one another. After a few moments spent catching their breath, Draco sat up and wiped the blood out of his eyes.

"Where in the world did a goody-two-shoes like you learn to fight?"

Harry let out a bark of bitter laughter. "My cousin Dudley. That fat ass is probably bigger than Crabbe and Goyle combined."

Malfoy let out an appreciative whistle. "He a wizard?"

Raising an irritated eyebrow, and then wincing in pain from a cut right above it, Harry growled, "What if he is; planning on hiring another bodyguard?" He shook his head in disgust. "No, just a really big bastard."

Snorting with painful laughter, Malfoy slapped the cold stone floor. "You mean to tell me that you, the marvelous Golden Boy, used to get your ass kicked by a _muggle!_ Oh, that's wonderfully rich."

"A very big, very strong, and very mean muggle, yes," Harry snapped defensively. "How'd a pampered little rich boy who leads two Incredible Hulks around by their noses learn to fight, huh?"

That quieted Draco's laughter immediately. His eyes clouded over briefly before his face assumed the usual sneer. "None of your business, Potter." He got to his feet slowly, pain obvious in every movement of his body. "Forget Pansy, and forget that blasted meeting. I'm going to my dormitory for a nice long soak. Get dead, Potter." With that he began limping towards the stairs.

"Don't forget the bubbles, Drakey," Harry called after him in the high voice. He too worked his way into a standing position, figuring he'd better hurry to the DA before Ron and Hermione had a conniption. Dragging himself along while using the wall for support, it seemed to take forever for him to arrive at the appropriate door. He paused, hand on the knob, to take a deep breath in preparation for the scene to come, then opened the door and stepped in.

Hermione gasped at the same time Ginny squealed. "Blimey, mate! What happened," Ron shouted, rushing over to support his friend. Several of the Gryffindor DA members pulled out their wands and prepared to storm the hallway in search of the culprit(s) who dared to attack their housemate. Harry waved them back, and gasped at the pain caused by a bruise on his shoulder.

"Don't bother, he looks worse than I do."

"Harry," Hermione began, obviously ready for a lecture.

"It's really no big deal, I just ran into Malfoy."

"Oh," Ron replied. "Is that all? Got him good, didn't ya, mate?" The both of them shared a grin.

"Ugh," Hermione exclaimed in disgust. "Boys!"

**2ND AUTHORS NOTE:** I realize that I have been lax in my acknowledgements, and so I must thank MadamZep for helping me with whatever HP details I can't remember. Emmykins, you are a font of unusual and momentarily useful knowledge. It's wonderful to have a Potterhead for a best friend. You should read some of _her_ fanfics; they're excellent! Especially the series she refuses to post. Well, I guess you can't read those, but I got to! HA!


	6. Patching Up Draco

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters. 'Sides, you'd get more blood out of a turnip then you would money out of me! HA!

**AUTHORS NOTE: **Yo.

**SUMMARY: **Harry feels like he's in hell, Draco's living through a nightmare. Can they help each other before it's too late to save either one?

**FROM THE LAST ****CH.** "It's really no big deal, I just ran into Malfoy."/ "Oh," Ron replied. "Is that all? Got him good, didn't ya, mate?" The both of them shared a grin. / "Ugh," Hermione exclaimed in disgust. "Boys!"

**_Tainting the Innocent_**

**_Chapter Six_**

"Stupid Potter…Show him…Ouch, ouch, ouch!" Draco stood beneath the steady spray of hot water, letting the near scalding temperature soothe his many cuts, scrapes, and bruises. During the walk down to the dungeons, blood had crusted on his left eyebrow and it was stubbornly resisting removal. He hadn't been sure, at first, that he would be able to take a shower. Removing his clothing had been a most painful experience.

Draco heard footsteps on the tiled floor. He turned to ward off a nosey housemate and nearly had a heart attack. "What the hell," he yelled. "Pansy, this is the boys shower. Get out," he finished, beyond mortified. There were no curtains, or even stalls, to separate one shower from another, just a wall of showerheads. He felt vulnerable, being on full display like this, without even his clothing for protection.

"Oh, Draco, darling, I just saw Potter and came right away." She stopped walking, suddenly, and just stared at his poor body. She winced when she saw a purple tinge covering his torso almost solidly. "You look like a dragon chewed you up and spit you out. Are you alright?"

"Yes, and I'll be even better once you GET OUT!" His back was against the wall now, the coolness a sharp contrast with his steaming skin.

"Oh, don't be ridiculous. You don't have anything I haven't seen before. I have three brothers, if you'll remember."

"Yes, well, no doubt living with that many people in one house gave you a warped sense of privacy, but _this_ is an invasion by normal standards."

"Oh, you poor baby," she cooed, completely ignoring him. Picking up a towel, she closed in on the embarrassed boy and opened her arms towards him. "Let's dry you off and get you to bed. Come now, we still need to treat those cuts; don't want them infected."

He threw her a death glare and exhaled forcefully. He started forward to grab the towel, but she had opened it, expecting him to step into her arms. Pansy always did things like this, trying to touch him or hold him. Though he knew it was a joke, this tendency was annoying. "Pansy, just give me the towel."

She shook her head childishly. "Uh-uh."

"Pansy, I'm not in the mood for one of your little games. Give me the towel."

"No, Mr. Cranky. I just want to give you a hug." She batted her eyelashes. If you ignored the deformed nose, product of a hex tossed at her years ago by a younger sister, she was quite pretty.

He glared at her hard, but then rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Fine, but be careful. It hurts just breathing so I don't want to think how one good squeeze would feel." He stomped towards her, arms out, and hugged her neck. Her arms went around his waist gently, the towel along with them. She gave a squeeze and seemed happy with his reaction. "Aaah! You heartless bitch, what did I tell you," he yelled through gritted teeth.

"I'm sorry, darling, but I needed to see if you had any broken ribs. Your chest and back are already badly bruised, so it wasn't an unreasonable concern. I also knew you'd never let me inspect you outright, so I had to use a little Slytherin guile." She beamed a smile but pouted when that failed to wipe away his scowl. "Drake, you don't think I would purposefully hurt you without a damn good reason, do you?" He stared at her thoughtfully for so long that she began to feel insulted. Before she could work herself into a righteous tiff, however, he shook his head and smirked.

"No, you wouldn't, and you're right; I never would have let you examine me. Please, though, never do that again."

"Deal," she said with a smile. "Now, let's go to your room, clean you up, and get you to bed."

He shuffled after her, hand holding onto the damp towel as it tried to work itself loose. They finally made it to his private room, all Slytherins had one, and Pansy went digging through things like she owned the place. "You should probably wear only bottoms tonight, since I don't think you fancy the idea of struggling into a top. Could prove most painful."

"No, thank you. It was bad enough getting my damn clothes off. The bottoms will be fine."

"Good," she threw them at him, almost hitting him in the face. "Once you have them on I'll doctor you up and that'll be that."

He slid the green silk pajama bottoms on and sat on the edge of his bed. Pansy stood at his open door, using the _Accio_ spell to get the things she needed to take care of him. Although it could get irritating, having her fuss over him constantly, it felt good to know someone here cared enough to do so. He could vaguely remember his mother acting similarly when he was very young, but that had been before Lucius decided his son should grow up. He was careful, however, to never reveal that Pansy reminded him of his mother. He didn't think her delicate system could handle it. Or his head, incidentally; Pansy hit you, _hard_, when you seriously pissed her off.

"Alright, darling," she sang out, swaying happily towards his bed, vials and bandages levitating behind her. "Drink this." She handed him an acid green concoction that smelled like it could peel corns off of an ogre's foot. Didn't taste much better either, but at least the pain had begun to fade. "Now this." This one was an icy blue, and faintly sweet, that was meant to fade the bruises. "And this." A dark violet, and slightly salty, this one gave a jumpstart to the healing process on his broken nose. It should be good as new within the next few days, with nary a bump to mar his profile. "Okay, lie down and close your eyes. You don't want this ointment to get into those beautiful peepers; wouldn't be pleasant." He obeyed and started to relax, with the occasional wince when she'd find a tender spot, as Pansy administered to his battle wounds. His last memory before falling asleep was of her rolling up his pants legs so that she could tend to the scrapes on his knees.

The whole school was buzzing with news of the Malfoy/Potter brawl in the halls. They kept a careful watch on the doors to the Great Hall, determined that neither boy would enter without someone seeing them. When Harry walked in, flanked by Ron and Hermione, people whispered amongst themselves about how horrible he looked, and began betting on whether Malfoy was better or worse off. Then, when the hubbub over Harry had begun to die down, Draco sauntered in proud as you please with barely a scratch on him.

Voices in the room soared, trying to figure out what had happened to the composed Slytherin. Eye witnesses, Harry among their number, had seen him plodding to the dungeons, looking as if he were about to die. Now, however, he seemed to be in perfect health. If his gait was a bit stiff, and his movements a tad guarded, no one noticed; his face was barely marred and, on a Malfoy, the face was everything. Who knew Pansy made such a good nurse. Look out Poppy, Parkinson's gunning for ya!


	7. Fury of the Dragon

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters. 'Sides, you'd get more blood out of a turnip then you would money out of me! HA!

**AUTHORS NOTE: **A turning point in the story this is. Pleased I am. (Isn't Yoda adorable! That cute little pistachio!)

**SUMMARY: **Harry feels like he's in hell, Draco's living through a nightmare. Can they help each other before it's too late to save either one?

**FROM THE LAST ****CH.** Voices in the room soared, trying to figure out what had happened to the composed Slytherin. Eyewitnesses, Harry among their number, had seen him plodding to the dungeons, looking as if he were about to die. Now, however, he seemed to be in perfect health. If his gait was a bit stiff, and his movements a tad guarded, no one noticed. His face was barely marred and, on a Malfoy, the face was everything. Who knew Pansy made such a good nurse. Look out Poppy, Parkinson's gunning for ya!

**_Tainting the Innocent_**

**_Chapter Seven_**

**__**

Thursday, Harry was clomping through the dungeons towards Snape's office for an Occulemancy lesson. Since making it into NEWT level Potions, remedial classes didn't work as an excuse, so he'd consequently been serving a lot of detentions. He had improved over the summer, but Snape compensated for that by being extra brutal. Just as he was approaching the corridor that led to the potion master's office, he heard voices coming from farther down the hall. He could barely make out what was being said, but could tell that the speaker was highly agitated. The closer he crept, the clearer the words became until he realized that the person speaking was none other than Draco Malfoy. Finally reaching the door to the empty classroom, Harry stood there listening in on the boy's conversation with a growing curiosity.

"She hasn't written…why the _hell_ hasn't she written? Oh, God," he groaned.

"Drake, calm down mate. It's only been a few days," Blaise Zambini said. "Maybe she doesn't know yet." There was a double grunt of agreement. Harry knew those grunts without needing to see who had made them: Crabbe and Goyle.

"Of course she knows," he shouted. "She's made it her life's mission to have her finger on everything that goes on in the wizarding world. It's not improbable that she knew of the prison break before word even reached the Ministry. She should _also_ know I'd be worried beyond belief." You could hear the hard soles of dress shoes slapping the floor angrily. "Argh! WHERE IS SHE!" Thuds and splintering wood gave a counter point to screams. Harry could feel vibrations in the stone wall from several heavy things slamming into it and an almost tangible crackle of magic singed the air. The sounds of destruction continued along with those of panicked voices. There was a sickeningly wet smack and a great bellow of pain.

"Draco, please, stop" Pansy Parkinson sobbed out, but her voice was barely audible over the roar of magic and collisions. Harry could guess what was going on: Malfoy, terrified by the lack of correspondence from this woman, has worked himself into such a state that his magic went out of control. Right now, he was a danger to himself and those unlucky souls trapped in there with him. Not one to stand by when people were in danger, even when those people were Slytherins, Harry palmed his wand and opened the door.

A tornado of splintered wood, metal, and dust spun around an entranced Malfoy, with bolts of silvery-blue magic woven through. His hair, usually so rigidly gelled back, whipped about his face leaving red welts where it hit. Zambini, Crabbe, and Baulstrode huddled together into the far corner. Pansy, only a few feet from Malfoy, had plastered herself on top of a prostrate Goyle. A growing pool of blood spread from his head and Harry now knew who had been hurt. Some of the bigger pieces were bashing into her, but she refused to move from her protective position over the incapacitated goliath. She couldn't remain at the eye of the storm for long, though.

Her loyal bravery spurring him into action, Harry dashed into the room. First, he'd focus on getting to the trio in the corner.

"Potter," Zambini yelled in a mix of confusion and relief. Despite the animosity between houses, the sight of a Gryffindor was reassuring during something like this. Standing over his charges, Harry cast a shielding spell, and helped them to their feet. He tried to get them to go swiftly, because the shield weakened with each projectile that hit it.

"Our wands…we tried to stop him but our wands were sucked away," Zambini moaned after they'd exited the room, holding a hand to his bleeding head. Apparently, Goyle wasn't the only one on the injured list.

Millicent grabbed Harry's arm in a death grip, staring into his eyes intently. "You've got to get back in there; you've got to save Pansy and Greg!" Harry nodded his agreement and ran back in.

It was much more difficult getting to the other two without being brained, but he finally managed it. Pansy was shocked speechless when she looked up into his face, but complied quickly once she understood what he was about. Harry cast _Wingardiam Leviosa_ on Goyle, then he and Pansy grabbed hold and pulled him through the maelstrom. Ever so gently, the injured boy was lowered to the ground and Parkinson lifted his head into her lap.

Once more, Harry ran willingly into hell, his goal this time being the cause of this disaster. Using all of his Seeker agility to dodge the debris, Harry worked his way across the room. "Malfoy," he yelled, hoping to startle the other boy out of this trance. He tried several more times, ducking and weaving to avoid being hit, before deciding to change his course of action. "I promise I'm not going to enjoy this," he gritted out, "even if it is you. _Stupefy_!" They stunning spell failed to work, so Harry mentally scrolled through his repertoire of spells, trying to find one that wouldn't seriously injure the distressed boy. "_Riktusempra_," he tried again, withholding some force from the spell, but apparently not enough. Malfoy went flying into the wall behind him and his magic storm slowly died down.

Harry wobbled towards Malfoy, careful not to trip on the wreckage strewn about the floor. With a heave, Harry got the other boy into a standing position and gently slapped his face a bit. "Come on, Malfoy, wake up. I don't have the energy to levitate you out, so you'll have to move under your own power." His eyes fluttered.

"Mum…mum," he mumbled, his head lolling back.

"Malfoy, I may have been hit in the head one too many times tonight, but I still know I'm not your mum. Now wake up." There was a loud moan from the blonde as his head rolled forward onto Harry's shoulder. With another moan, he began to lift his head.

"P-Potter," he asked weakly, trying to look at Harry but unable to focus his vision.

"One and the same. Can you walk?" Malfoy's head drooped to his shoulder again, and he took that for a nod. He started dragging the barely conscious boy across the room and Malfoy slowly tried to keep step.

"Draco," Blaise yelled, happy to see his friend all right. Harry had lied about being too low on magic to float Malfoy out of there because he new these people would need to see their leader like this, on his feet. Gladly passing his burden onto the other boy, Harry collapsed against the wall in exhaustion. He looked around at the battered Slytherins, and was glad to see they were relatively fine. Most of them, anyways.

"Is he going to be okay," Harry asked, worriedly glancing at Goyle.

"I don't know," Pansy said with a tearful, trembling voice. "He was hit pretty hard, and the blood won't stop!"

"Try putting pressure on it," he suggested.

"What," they all asked, looking at him questioningly.

"I said to put pressure on it, to staunch the blood. Here," he pulled his shirt over his head and tore off a sleeve, handing the rest to Crabbe. "Tear this into pieces, please. Now watch." Harry folded the sleeve, placed the makeshift bandage over the nasty gash, and pressed. Goyle moaned in pain and the other students looked unsure on whether to stop him or not, but seemed to decide to let Harry do what he felt was necessary. Besides, if he'd intended them harm, he could have just left the lot of them in there with Malfoy. Wrapping and tying some of the pieces to hold the bandage in place, Harry asked what had been burning in his mind through this whole ordeal. "What happened in there, anyways?"

He pretended to be oblivious to the looks passed between the others, tending to Goyle's wound instead. "He'd tried getting close enough to wrestle Draco to the ground, but a desk hit him in the head," Baulstrode answered, deliberately ignoring Harry's true question.

"And why," Harry persisted, refusing let this be, "would he have needed to wrestle Malfoy to the ground? Why had his magic gone wild?" His eyes were fierce as he shifted his gaze from person to person for several tense moments. Pansy opened her mouth, seeming ready to finally answer, but Zambini spoke first.

"Potter, it's not ours to tell. Draco would be beyond furious if we told _you,_ of all people, something that personal. I'm sorry." He stared blankly at the boy before nodding his head in understanding.

"Alright then, how about we get these two blokes to Madame Pomfrey?"

"Doing your Hero's Duty by us 'till the very end, huh Potter," a subdued voice asked. Harry turned to look into Malfoy's eyes, trying to figure how best to answer. His first impulse was to respond with something scathing, but there had been no malice in Malfoy's voice. Also, he really did feel responsible for these people until he could give them over to responsible adult hands. He finally settled on a simple statement of the truth.

"I'm going to help all of you until no longer needed, but I'm no hero."

Malfoy snorted and smirked. "No arguments here. Let's get going then."

They were just about to go-only needed to levitate Goyle, who had yet to awaken-when Crabbe slapped his head and groaned. "Our wands! How are we ever going to find them in that mess!" He looked back at the destroyed room with dismay. Harry raised his arm and used _Accio_ to call the wands to his hand. "Oh, yeah. Thanks, Potter."

"Don't mention it." Millicent did the honors with Goyle, and they all headed off, Crabbe assisting a woozy but stubborn Malfoy.

Madame Pomfrey almost had kittens when the battered group stumbled in. She immediately took charge of Goyle, inspecting him thoroughly before pouring countless vile potions down his throat. "Is the young man going to be alright, Poppy," Dumbledore asked from the doors. Snape and McGonagall came in right after him looking quite worried. Even Snape.

"Yes, Albus, he should be fine in a few days. Blunt trauma to the head causing a serious laceration and a minor concussion. Nothing I can't fix. The blood loss was minor, since this is a head wound. Always appear to bleed a great deal, but rarely enough to do real harm."

"Thank you, Poppy. I know he couldn't be in more capable hands." She beamed with his praise and moved on to Malfoy, slumped over on the bed next to Goyles'. While she tutted over the bone weary but otherwise sound boy, Snape turned towards Harry with a snarl.

"What the bloody hell did you do to my students, Potter?" He spit out the name as if it were a most disgusting word. "Three-hundred Points from-"

"Don't you dare, Severus! There is no basis for your accusation but your own vile suspicions."

"I don't need concrete proof; everything that walking disaster is involved in is his fault. He probably attacked them viciously, the little delinquent, and is now going to hide behind your skirts to avoid his due punishment."

"Please, you delusional prat, one boy against six? Are you implying that your students are so weak as that?"

"Who to say he didn't ambush them. That would be just his way! He probably-"

"SAVED OUR LIVES," Pansy yelled loudly enough to rattle the chandeliers. Poor Goyle groaned in pain from the noise and Pansy glanced at him apologetically. She turned back towards her head of house, glaring at him fiercely. "All of us had gotten into an argument and Draco's magic went wild. We lost our wands, and Goyle got his head bashed in trying to get to Draco. Harry heard the commotion and rushed in to _save_ us! He didn't cause a bloody thing, and if you try to punish him I'll-" she had been advancing on him menacingly, nearly backing the professor into a corner, but stopped suddenly when Dumbledore's hand landed on her shoulder.

"Severus, is Miss Parkinson's testimony proof enough for you of Harry's innocence?" Snape could only stare at his student as he nodded his head. This was not an easy girl to woo, and Potter had won her loyalty through one act of Gryffindor stupidity. When Pansy Parkinson cared enough about someone to stand up to a teacher, even Snape backed down; that girl could be as vicious as the bulldog her sister had turned her into. "Good! Now that that's settled-Poppy, how is Mr. Malfoy. Having your magic run wild is a dreadful experience."

"Oh, he's fine Headmaster, sound as a bell. Just a bit of exhaustion, but a good night's sleep should fix that. He could even go back to the dorms tonight, but I'll want to keep Gregory until he wakes up, and then for observation."

"That sounds fine. Well, you heard her, everyone off to bed, off to bed. Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore turned to him, a twinkle in his eye, "everyone will be excused from morning classes tomorrow only if _you_ take that time to recuperate." Malfoy stared at him flabbergasted. Dumbledore knew he wouldn't take the offered respite, being just as anal as Hermione when it came to school, so he'd hinged everyone else on his decision. That man knew his students entirely too well for someone who barely had contact with them. Nodding stiltedly, he stood and started towards the doors, expecting his friends to fall in behind him. Pansy, on the other hand, had a different idea. She poked him in the ribs as he walked by but when he ignored her she grabbed his arm and spun him around.

"What," he squawked, not in the mood for one of her I'm-a-girl-and-can't-say-anything-so-I'll-just-torture-you-until-you-figure-it-out-for-yourself games. She stared at him pointedly and then switched her gaze to Harry. He grimaced when he realized what she wanted. Deciding to get it over with, he turned towards his rival, and held out a hand. Harry took it reluctantly. "I don't know if you've figured this out yet, Potter, but a life debt is a magical pact in the wizarding world. We," he seemed reluctant to continue, but trudged on, "each of us, owe you one."

Harry was shocked. He hadn't expected this at all. Yes, he'd known life debts were magical, but it'd never occurred to him that any were owed. He said the first thing that came to mind. "There is no debt, Malfoy." The blonde smirked and rolled his eyes.

"You are such a Gryffindor, Potter. Only one of those thoughtless self-sacrificing gits could say something like that." He shook his head and exited the infirmary followed by his friends, leaving behind a very baffled Harry.

**2ND AUTHORS NOTE:** Ok, long chapter. Is that yea-ness or what? Tell me what you think!


	8. Kissed By a Rose

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters. 'Sides, you'd get more blood out of a turnip then you would money out of me! HA!

**AUTHORS NOTE: **For those of you who miss it in this chapter, the fic will be a bit angsty.

**SUMMARY: **Harry feels like he's in hell, Draco's living through a nightmare. Can they help each other before it's too late to save either one?

**FROM THE LAST ****CH.** Harry was shocked. He hadn't expected this at all. Yes, he'd known life debts were magical, but it'd never occurred to him that any were owed. He said the first thing that came to mind. "There is no debt, Malfoy." The blonde smirked and rolled his eyes. / "You are such a Gryffindor, Potter. Only one of those thoughtless self-sacrificing gits could say something like that." He shook his head and exited the infirmary followed by his friends, leaving behind a very baffled Harry.

**_Tainting the Innocent_**

**_Chapter Eight_**

McGonagall walked Harry back to Gryffindor Tower and he could tell she was dying to know his version of things. Finally, she gave in to the urge. "Potter, what exactly-"

"It was just as Pansy said; they wouldn't tell me what had happened before I arrived. Said it was Malfoy's business, not their place to share it."

McGonagall ignored the interruption. "Curious."

"Very."

They arrived at the Fat Lady, spoke the password, and stepped through the portal. Hermione was the first to see her friend being escorted in by their Head of House and couldn't hold back her dismay. "Oh, Harry! What did you do now!" He was slightly insulted that she automatically assumed he was in trouble.

"Absolutely nothing, Miss Granger; Harry was involved in an incident with several students from another house." She had begun speaking loud enough for the others to hear. "He was on his way to detention with Professor Snape and encountered Draco Malfoy and his friends." She paused and gave a loaded glare when Ron muttered something about snobby gits. "As I was saying, Mr. Malfoy and his friends were in an argument, resulting in his magic going wild. The others were in danger and Harry, being the good Gryffindor he is, saved them despite his personal feelings for those involved. Now, I want no questions asked of Harry tonight; he has earned a good rest. You may all mob him later. Do not wake him tomorrow morning for classes either, unless he requests it, because the Headmaster has excused him. Goodnight students." They all chorused a goodnight and she left. Typical McGonagall; go in, explain, and get out again in three minutes or less. You had to admire the old girl for that.

"Well, do we wake you up or not, mate," Ron asked. Harry thought about it for a moment.

"If I'm already awake then I'll go to class but if not, no thank you."

"'Kay then. Were you going to bed now?"

"Yes!" He nodded his head enthusiastically. He was exhausted. After saying goodnight to his housemates, he headed up stairs to his comfortable bed.

At lunch the next day Harry was extremely drowsy. After getting ready and slipping into bed, he couldn't seem to clear his mind for sleep. One thought kept popping up: When had Malfoy become so powerful? The magic pouring out of him had almost been suffocating. This conundrum had kept him up until well after his entire dorm left for class. It seemed that he had just fallen asleep when Ron shook him awake.

There were four more classes to make it through, Astronomy not until eleven tonight, and then he would be free to crash until Quidditch practice tomorrow. Hermione passed him notes from the first half of the day; she had gathered and copied these from fellow braniacs in Harry's classes. Really, she was too good to both of her friends, but it wouldn't have mattered much if the notes weren't available. Friday classes simply reviewed lessons from over the week.

Barely picking at his food, Harry was glad when it was time to head for Herbology. Professor Sprout was as warm an individual as her hot houses. No matter how boring or repulsive the lesson, she made everything seem heaps better with her grandmotherly aura, chasing away most blues within one class. Today, they were learning the proper way to care for Eraydian roses; darkly beautiful blossoms the size of dinner plates with blue-black petals and silvery stems. The students had to wear facemasks because the pollen from _these_ roses caused severe hallucinations and erratic behavior, usually of the amorous sort. In fact, the muggle belief that roses were the flowers of love came from these little doozies.

Caring for the Eraydians was complicated, made even more so by the fact that Sprout was quizzing the class on their properties the entire time. They were poisonous when ingested, poisonous when pricked by the thorns, and a vital ingredient for the Sleepless Dreaming draught used by Seers to attempt initiating visions. The essential oil, thinly diluted, was an aphrodisiac when rubbed into the pulse points…there were many other tidbits to make this an interesting study, but Neville Longbottom was the only one to know them all. Once Hermione dropped all classes extraneous to Muggle Relations, Neville had his chance to shine in this one class. If he had spoken up more during previous years, he may have even given her stiff competition. Class finished with Sprout trying to keep some of the more troublesome students from stealing the smaller buds to use for pulling a Weasley later on.

Late in the night-having endured Trelawney, ravenous bergdoia memblos (immortal birdlike lizards that used to eat the flesh of dead Saxon kings), and his housemates-Harry was glad to stumble up to bed. He was now free to sleep until after noon since Quidditch practice did not begin until after lunch, and intended to use every second.

There was tension between the three friends when Harry came down to lunch the next day. Over the summer, they became used to him being quick to anger and then disappearing for hours-sometimes days-at a time, but that did not mean they were happy about it. He was safer at Hogwarts than anywhere else, but as his best friends they felt responsible for his safety. At first, Hermione had tried fussing at him, but that only succeeded in Harry storming out of the Burrow and not coming back for three days. Now, everyone just sat there staring at each other for several moments before Ron asked the other boy to pass the potatoes. Harry couldn't help but laugh; good ol' Ron and his insistent, reliable stomach.

Ron now stood at the front of the locker room to give his pre-practice speech. The Gryffindors had elected him captain after Angelina's graduation because of his marvelous tactical skills. He couldn't wait to get to the air; the sky was clear, the breeze was brisk, and Hagrid's flower bushes scented to whole grounds. As his friend droned on, it was the same speech he had practiced all summer, Harry's thoughts began drifting to last night. He had wondered when the others would get around to asking about the Malfoy incident, and wasn't kept waiting for long; they practically jumped him after dinner. He explained the events as best he could but became angry when Ron kept insisting he should have left them all there to rot. Everyone seemed to share his sentiments and refused to understand why Harry couldn't have done that. He became furious with their pettiness and stormed out of the Tower.

A portkey fashioned into a Snitch necklace transported him to the vaulted room where he'd stood against Voldemort for the first time. He'd come here frequently since second year and had turned it into a safe haven. The necklace was used to combat a phobia he'd developed after fourth year. He no longer suffered from extreme nausea and anxiety attacks, but didn't think true security with porting would ever be achieved.

Using his own resourcefulness and Dobby's loyalty, he had decorated his space with an eclectic mix of comfort and style that would have made Mrs. Weasley proud. Drapes hung between the pillars and spicy scented moss carpeted the stone floor. Overstuffed armchairs changed color periodically and flanked a Roman oil lamp. Tall shelves circled the sitting area, filled with the books and doodads he had sent Dobby to purchase. The helpful house elf had figured out how the ceiling in the Great Hall had been enchanted, and did the same to this one. When here, he would sit back and stare at the night sky for hours, taking comfort from their permanence. It might be considered morbid to make a refuge of the place where you killed a man but he found it fitting, considering what he'll be forced to do one day for the survival of the Wizarding world.

Reality began to slip as thoughts of Voldemort merged with memories of Sirius and the Department of Mysteries. _Don't__! Don't think of that! God, anything but that…_Harry paled, forcing the memories back into the recesses of his mind. Voices called out to him as he stared into space. Sometimes they were a woman's voice screaming before she died in a flash of green light or a hissing voice shouting, "Kill the spare!" Sirius had just pushed aside the curtains of the Veil and began shaking him by the shoulders…no, that wasn't right; his godfather was dead. Sirius began to morph into Ron, and finally Harry could hear his teammates' panicked voices.

"Harry, snap out of it mate; come back, please!" Ron shook him so hard his neck began to ache. He whimpered pitiably and slumped his head forward.

"Harry," Ginny called out in fear, moving beside Ron and their friend.

"Oh my gosh!" Hilda Bergenstein-a fourth year transfer student from Germany and new beater for the team-seemed to be in shock. She stared at Harry in horrified fascination. "W-what's happening to him?"

"Ron, what do we do?"

"Nothing," Ron snarled to his sister. "The lot of you stay put and keep your bloody mouths shut!" He crouched in front of the other boy and began chaffing his arms. "Harry," he said gently. "Come on, tell me what's wrong."

"M-m," he tried to force the words out, but they wouldn't come. It felt as if he were swimming in a sea of cotton balls. The fluffy orbs shoved themselves into his mouth, ears, nose, and eyes to crowd out his brains. Falling forward into Ron's arms, his last thought was how much he wished it were the Veil instead.

He woke up in the infirmary, Madame Pomfrey hovering near by clucking over her stock of potions. "Good, you're awake," she said in a no-nonsense voice. "Here, drink this." She shoved something frothy, black, and utterly revolting into his mouth, tipping the vial back to make sure he got every drop. Harry's stomach almost rebelled at the taste, but managed at the last moment to spare Pomfrey's robes. "Now, let me check you over to see if you'll need more." Harry was determined to be the healthiest person in the world if it meant never having to taste _that_ again. She grabbed his chin, cast _Lumos_ on her wand, and flicked the light from one eye to the other; she poked, prodded, and forced him to cough for several more minutes. Wonderful nurse, Poppy Pomfrey, but her bedside manner left a bit to be desired.

"Poppy, I trust the lack of urgency means young Mr. Potter will be fine?" Both nurse and boy started at the unexpected voice of the Headmaster. Madame Pomfrey stood straight and turned towards him.

"Yes, Headmaster. I'm not sure what caused his episode, but there seems to be no lingering side effects and I don't believe it to be contagious."

"Good, good. Mr. Weasley, you may come in now," Dumbledore called over his shoulder and then shuffled away to converse with the nurse in private.

Ron burst into the room, Hermione and the Quidditch team fast on his heels. He dropped onto the bed next to Harry's and looked him over with concern. Ginny impulsively hugged him then blushed scarlet. He had time to reassure the anxieties of his teammates before Ron interrupted, unable to hold onto his curiosity a moment longer. "Blimey, mate, what happened?"

"Don't know," Harry said despondently. But oh, how he wished he knew. "Madame Pomfrey said I'm fine now though and that it's not contagious, so the rest of you are safe."

"Harry, did this have something to do with V-" Hermione had been about to say Voldemort, but then remembered to presence of the team. "Never mind, we'll discuss it later. Do you need help getting to the Tower? I've asked Dobby to bring our dinner up to the common room so that you can have some peace before facing the entire school." He felt a warm glow at his friend's thoughtfulness, constantly surprised by how wonderful it felt to have people who cared.

"You ask a house elf to do something?" He turned to everyone with a look of absolute horror on his face. "Quick, someone, look out the window and check if the world's ending!" She sent him a deadly glare, looking more dangerous than Voldemort ever had.

"I have never had a problem soliciting the aid of _free _and _employed_ house elves, just those too brainwashed to know they are enslaved by a cruel and uncaring establishment."

"_Free_ and _employed_ house elves," Ron mimicked. "Yeah, all of two."

Harry decided to interrupt before things got ugly, but her words finally sank in. "Wait, dinner! How long was I out?"

"Since practice yesterday," Collin Creevy volunteered.

"What! But-but…how," he finished lamely. He couldn't help but wonder if all these traumas that caused him to be unconscious for days were damaging his brain.

"Don't know, but I'm mighty glad you're awake now," Ron said. "So's Hilda, I'd imagine; you scared her right out of her knickers! Seems things like this don't happen at Tor Grütravon." The others looked solemn, thinking of other things that had happened over the years that would scare poor Hilda out of more than her underpants.

"But _we're_ used to it, aren't we guys," Ginny asked with that broad Weasley grin. For a moment, the others stared at her incredulously, but then began to chuckle. Harry was grateful to her for turning the situation into a joke. He looked around for Hilda, intending to reassure her that things weren't always so "exciting" at Hogwarts, but couldn't find her among the others.

"Huh, wonder where she is."

"Oh, the poor dear," said Katie Bell. "She saw you acting strangely but thought it was a secret Quidditch ritual to get your mind into the game or something. She feels just dreadful about not realizing the emergency and blames herself for all of this. Right now, she's too embarrassed to face you."

"But that's just silly; it's no more her fault than…than Nearly Headless Nick's!"

"We tried explaining that, but you know the Jewish; very big on guilt, they are," Ron said authoritatively. He shrank a bit, however, when he had to defend himself against Hermione, who was shouting about uneducated prejudice and the prevalence of anti-Semitism among Britain's youth.

Harry was laughing at the two of them so hard he couldn't breathe when Dumbledore came back. "Is everyone ready to go back to Gryffindor? Yes? Well, let's be off then after Harry changes his clothing. I've come to understand that a considerable feast awaits you, courtesy of a certain gainfully employed house elf."

"What? Dobby!" Harry smacked himself in the head, chagrined at the little guy's actions. Every time he was given a task to complete for "The Great, and Generous, and Powerful, and Just Plain Perfect Mr. Harry Potter" he went overboard. The birthday party Mrs. Weasley let him plan turned into a fiasco with winged tigers, circus clowns, harem dancers, trained elephants, and animated ice sculptures of Harry proudly brandishing various weapons. One with a jeweled sword almost took off the head of the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. At least the food had been good.

The three of them sat in their favorite chairs before the fireplace. They had impatiently waited for everyone else to go to bed, not wanting to chance anyone overhearing what they had to discuss. Finally, the last seventh year tottered off to bed and Ron released a sigh of relief. "I thought he'd never leave!" The other two nodded their agreement and Harry settled into his chair more comfortably.

"So, um…Harry," Hermione started; she seemed reluctant to continue.

"I don't understand what happened. I was listening to Ron's speech and then…wasn't." He leaned forward, elbows on knees, and held his head in trembling hands. "These jumbled images kept flashing by. Then I heard my mum screaming and Voldemort ordering Wormwood to kill Cedric." He paused struggling to remember something important, Hermione and Ron held spellbound by his account. "I-I thought _someone_ was shaking me like crazy, but then it was just Ron. For the life of me, though, I can't remember who!" He tossed himself back in the seat, angry at his faulty memory.

"Do you think-" Hermione started to ask, but Harry interrupted her with a brisk shake of the head.

"No. My scar didn't hurt once through the whole thing. Voldemort had nothing to do with it."

"Are you sure, Harry," she asked, wringing her hands in the skirt of her nightgown. "If he's learned to control your link to do something like this, then you could be in severe danger!"

"I have a delusional homicidal maniac out for my blood, Hermione," he snapped. "I'm always in severe danger. I've also got enough trouble without going to look for more when there's no evidence it exists. Just leave it be and hope this was an isolated incident."

"Harry," Ron said gently, finally speaking up. "W-when you…what I mean to say is…why did you keep calling out for Sirius?"

His face went blank and his eyes cold. "I don't want to talk about it," he stated in a robotic voice, sounding as if he'd repeated it a thousand times. In truth, he had; Harry refused to discuss Sirius or his death with anyone. He'd withdrawn into himself after arriving at Grimauld House early in the holiday, bits of himself emerging infrequently. It seemed as though he went through life on autopilot, refusing to speak, barely eating, and never smiling. Everyone watched Harry forcing himself through the pain alone, and those who loved the boy despaired of ever reaching him again.

Then one day he seemed to have woken up and decided to be his old self again, the transformation was that quick. He laughed, played, ate enthusiastically, and even bloody well whistled in the shower. It was as if he'd become a different person all over again, or forgotten that there was a reason to be upset in the first place.

**2ND AUTHORS NOTE:** Ooooooo, is Harry snapping? I can't promise that all chapters will be this long, but I'll sure as heck try. I noticed that I was beginning one chapter where the other had left off and it takes FOREVER to complete stories that way. So, I'm going to try to wrap up everything in a chapter and start with something fresh each time. I may still have to do some of them the other way-would you really want to sit through a twenty-page chapter?-but it will be only when necessary. Many of you may find it silly to worry about this so much, but I find stories that are made up entirely of day-to-day accounts annoying and refuse to write one. Thank you.


	9. Hunter In the Moonlight

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters. 'Sides, you'd get more blood out of a turnip then you would money out of me! HA!

**AUTHORS NOTE: **I want to apologize for the mistakes made in some chapters. I have removed the parenthetical reminders and replaced the bloops with the names that should have gone there. They were just there as place holders and completely slipped my mind. Sorry. Should be a professional ditz!

**SUMMARY: **Harry feels like he's in hell, Draco's living through a nightmare. Can they help each other before it's too late to save either one?

**FROM THE LAST ****CH.** Then one day he seemed to have woken up and decided to be his old self again, the transformation was that quick. He laughed, played, ate enthusiastically, and even bloody well whistled in the shower. It was as if he'd become a different person all over again, or forgotten that there was a reason to be upset in the first place.

**_Tainting the Innocent_**

**_Chapter Nine_**

**__**

Harry and Ron had spent the last two days comforting Hermione; Death Eaters had attacked safe-houses where the families of muggle borns were being kept. She'd finally received a letter from her parents, however, and was enthusiastically writing back and forth. It had been a close thing, Hermione coming back to Hogwarts this year. Her parents had been horrified by their daughter being so far away when times were dangerous enough for them to be put in protective custody. Dumbledore had convinced them, though, that school was the safest place in the world for the muggle borns to be. Some muggle parents still refused, and now had magic tutors in hiding with them.

Effects of the war were still comparatively small. Death Eaters made a few random attacks meant more to spread fear than strategically spread their influence. This couldn't last forever, though, and everyone was tensely waiting for something big. Order members scurried around the globe trying to sniff out Dark activity, but it was mostly false alarms. Everyone knew that Voldemort was playing with the Order and struggled to figure out why.

After tearing Hermione away from the owlery, the three friends headed towards Hagrid's hut and Care of Magical Creatures. They had been studying giants, thanks to Gwamp, and were to review discerning heath by the quality of a toenail. The Hufflepuffs were scared witless being this close to something that could bite their heads off, but persevered because that's what Hufflepuffs do.

Class began with Gwamp petting Hermione on the head for a few moments. He'd become quite fond of her the year before and had tried to follow her around campus like a faithful dog at the beginning of the term. His great size prevented that quite a bit, however, and one day he'd begun tearing down the school during a temper tantrum. Dumbledore and Hagrid had their hands full that day trying to calm an enraged giant, even if he is a small one. Everyone, not just Slytherin, teased her mercilessly about her new "boyfriend". All of it, except from the Slytherins, was done in a good natured and playful manor. Hermione took it like a trooper and treated Gwamp like a pet. Funny thing was, he did the exact same with her.

"Alright, Gwamp, that'll be enough," Hagrid boomed up to his half brother. "She'll not be goin' anywhere for the next hour."

"My 'Mione, Hagger," the little giant whined, stamping a massive foot and almost crushing Dean Thomas.

"Yes, yes, yes. She's your 'Mione', but right now she's gotta learn somethin', so hands off!" It wasn't pretty, watching a fully-grown giant pout…not pretty at all.

Looking down at the dirty, smelly, calloused appendage, Harry decided he'd much prefer battling evil psychopaths to this any day.

Silently, Draco strode down the corridor, naturally melting into the shadows to keep from being discovered. His dorm room had felt suffocating and the walls had begun to close in on him. He swiftly fled the dungeons, aimlessly walking to ease the ache in his chest. He still hadn't heard from his mother and fear was almost boiling out of him. The horrible things that could have happened to her danced around his mind, keeping him awake at night and inattentive in class.

She'd had to convince the Ministry that neither of the two remaining Malfoys had ever served Voldemort; renouncing her husband and ridiculing that lunatic had become a way of life for the poor woman over the past summer. Both Lucius and Voldemort would view such self-preservation as a betrayal. Never having been a particularly powerful witch, Narcissa had been useless to the Dark Lord as a follower, but served him as the faithful wife of his most trusted Death Eater. Black bloodlines were among the most pure in the wizarding world, making her the perfect mate for an ambitious Lucius Malfoy.

Now his fragile, gentle mother was missing and most likely at the mercy of the Death Eaters and their crazed leader. The very idea chilled his blood and kept him up at night, pacing the deserted halls of Hogwarts. He was not so caught up in his fears that the sounds of someone approaching from behind him went undetected; years of training prevented such an amateur slip-up. Stilling his movement and slowing his breathing, he waited like a predator in the dark for whoever it was disturbing his solitude.

Harry's stomach rumbled again. The persistent hunger had given him a midnight wakeup call and he'd decided to drop by the kitchens. With the invisibility cloak draped over his body, he was hurrying down towards the first floor. Hogwarts at night creeped many people out, what with the moaning ghosts and eerie play of moonlight, but Harry felt more at ease now than when the halls bustled with students. Times like these, he could pretend he was just another hungry teenage wizard on the prowl for food and not _the _Harry Potter. Statues and shadows expected nothing from him, and that was a great comfort.

He was just coming up on a statue of a wizened old wizard when a hand shot out and fisted in the cloak. Harry gave an undignified squawk of distress and struggled against his assailant. It was frightening how silent this person was, their breathing just barely audible. His legs were kicked out from under him and he slammed belly down onto the floor. The person manhandling him straddled him and wrenched his arms behind his back before the cloak was pulled away from his face.

"What the…Potter?" Harry's eyes widened at the voice above him and dread curled in his belly. He reluctantly turned his head to glare up into they shocked gray eyes of Draco Malfoy.

"Well I'm not a house elf. Get off of me, Malfoy." He bucked upwards to dislodge the other boy, but that only earned him a cuff to the back of the head.

"Now why should I do that, Potter? Hmm? I've caught you wandering around after curfew. Hidden under an invisibility cloak at that, so your motives are no doubt criminal."

"That's bullshit and you know it, Malfoy! And what about you? You're out after curfew too." Draco snorted derisively as he painfully pulled Harry up by his arms.

"In case it's slipped your pathetic mind, Potter, _I_ am a _prefect_. I'm making my obligatory rounds." This seemed to stump Harry for a moment as he searched for something else to keep himself out of trouble.

"Wait, prefect rounds stop at twelve and it's almost three in the morning. There's no way you'd be doing rounds now!" Harry's back was to Draco so he didn't see the other's eyes squint in consternation. Considering what else Gryffindor had to offer other than Granger, people often forgot that Harry was quite intelligent. Another excuse came to him in a flash and Draco settled his features into a furious glare.

"Whatever, fine!" Draco spun him around angrily and shoved him backwards. "I was looking for a house elf. I'm hungry and intended to procure some food."

Harry looked shocked for a moment. "Oh," he said. "Well, why didn't you just go to the kitchens?"

"Kitchens," Draco asked, a baffled look crossing his face.

"Yeah, they're on the first floor. Didn't you know that?" When the other boy shook his head, Harry realized they were actually being civil to each other. He decided to play along if it would keep him out of detention. "I was headed there myself. You want to come with? Here," Harry said, holding part of the invisibility cloak out to Draco. "We'll get there faster if we don't have to worry about someone seeing us." Draco's face adopted a suspicious expression, but he nodded his head anyways. Having taken this route, he couldn't very well skip out, now could he?

The two of them walked together in awkward silence for a few minutes, making sure that they were as far apart as possible while still being covered by the cloak. "So," Harry said. "How'd you know I was there? No one except Madeye Moody has before."

"Your stomach rumbled," Draco stated simply. Harry blushed at the fact that something so small had given him away.

"Oh," he replied, and the both of them remained quiet until they reached the base of the great stairs.

"Were exactly are these kitchens, Potter," Draco asked.

"Over here, behind the door by the stairs." They continued on to the painting of a fruit basket.

"Are you sure the password will work? How often is it changed?"

"No passwords," Harry said as he reached for the pear and gave it a tickle. The piece of fruit chuckled and the painting swung open.

"You've got to be kidding me. Who, in the name of Merlin, came up with tickling a pear?"

"My guess would be Dumbledore," Harry replied with a laugh, pulling off the cloak and climbing through the portal.

"You know, you're probably right." Draco followed and they were instantly swarmed by house elves. "Oh my gosh, I had no idea there were so many."

"Mr. Harry Potter, sir, what can we get you," a dignified female asked. A dozen others parroted the question before Harry got his voice to rise above the sound.

"Anything on hand would be nice. Malfoy?"

"Same goes, but may I ask for some tea as well?" Many squeaky voices chorused that that would be fine and the two boys were seated at a small wooden table with rough-hewn benches. Enough food was piled in front of them to last Crabbe and Goyle a week with gigantic mugs of steaming sweet tea. They ate until their clothes grew tight across their bellies, ignoring each other unless a desired item was out of reach. The house elves encouraged this gorging by replacing food as fast as it disappeared. There were many squeaky protests when they finally pushed away from the table and stumbled towards the portal.

"Have you had your fill, Mr. Harry Potter, Mr. Draco Malfoy? There is much more we could give you," the head elf said, hopping with excitement at the prospect of serving the two of them even more. The both of them went green with the thought of more food and shook their heads enthusiastically.

"No thank you, Gribbles. You've given us more than enough. Thanks anyways," Harry said right before lumbering out of the kitchens.

"Bloody hell," Draco groaned as he fell back against the wall, hands on his knees. "I don't think I've ever eaten that much in my entire life!"

"Know what you mean," Harry said, using the opposite wall for support. "I feel about ready to burst…or maybe puke."

Draco's head snapped up at that and a scowl fell into place once more. "Vomit on me, Potter, and I'll hex you into oblivion. My shoes alone probably cost more than your muggle family makes in a month."

"Didn't say I _was_ going to puke, you prat; only that I felt like it. Big difference." He pushed off the wall and began walking away. "I'm going back to bed now, too stuffed to argue with you. Have a horrible Saturday, ferret."

"Don't forget your cloak, scarhead," Draco called out, throwing the wadded up material at Harry's stomach as he turned around. He smirked at the satisfying "Ompf," and started back towards the dungeons, ignoring the muttered threats on his life coming from the disgruntled Gryffindor.

The question of how Draco Malfoy had moved so silently during their scuffle and discerned his location with a rumbling stomach kept Harry awake for quite a while until sleep finally came. He dreamed of being stalked in the night by a slivery beam of moonlight.

**2nd**** AUTHORS NOTE: **Hey, would it still be slash if I turned one of the guys into a girl? Not for this one, but a humor fic I'm writing. Just wondering.


	10. Mamma Mia

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters. 'Sides, you'd get more blood out of a turnip then you would money out of me! HA!

**AUTHORS NOTE: **Hey, sorry it took so long to get these chapters out. I was stuck for a while but finally worked my way through it. Hope your enjoying the fic so far. J

**SUMMARY: **Harry feels like he's in hell, Draco's living through a nightmare. Can they help each other before it's too late to save either one?

**FROM THE LAST ****CH.** The question of how Draco Malfoy had moved so silently during their scuffle and discerned his location with a rumbling stomach kept Harry awake for quite a while. When sleep finally came, he dreamed of being stalked in the night by a slivery beam of moonlight.

**_Tainting the Innocent_**

**_Chapter Ten_**

_He was furious. They had failed, yet again, to capture that weak and powerless _woman_. Members of the tracker's family lay in pieces all around, but he was allowed to live. Kneeling in the center of the carnage, he held the severed head of his small son and sobbed. Black cloaked figures ringed the bereaved man, gruesome masks hiding any expression. _

_"You failed me, Jonas," he said coldly, his voice sending chills down the spines of even the most loyal. "I hope you understand why punishment was necessary." He waited a few moments for a response, but when the weeping did not cease his anger rose again. "Think ignoring me will bring that pathetic brat back, do you? _Crucio!_" The head went flying as Jonas Zacherby convulsed, his screams of agony echoing off the surrounding trees. The poor man fell to the ground on all fours, shuddering as his grief took over again._

_"Lucius," he called. A masked follower stepped from the crowd near by._

_"My lord," he said, dropping to one knee._

_"Remove this vermin from my sight." The other man hurried forward to do his master's bidding, but was stopped cold as the chilling voice continued. "She was your responsibility to begin with, Lucius. Find her. Your years of loyal service will not be taken into account if you fail me again. Your son is not so secure that I cannot get to him."_

_"Yes, my lord." Though his voice was steady as stone, his hands shook with fear. It pleased him to see the effect he had on even one as powerful as Lucius Malfoy. The pleasure surged through his body and burst from his mouth in a bloodcurdling cackle._

He woke with a cry, laughter ringing in his head. His head throbbed horribly as he whimpered, clutching his hands to the source. Once the pain subsided to a manageable level, he thought over what Voldemort had done and shuddered with horror. Death Eater or not, no one deserved what had happened to Zacherby, especially for such a small reason. So the man had failed in finding someone, big deal. Whatever the woman had done to have Voldemort casing her down, he wished her luck.

Harry began to think of that night Malfoy's powers had gone awry. _"She hasn't written…why the hell hasn't she written?" _Could the distressed Slytherin have been talking about the woman Voldemort hunted? If so, who was she?

Deciding that such things were best left for the light of day, he reached into the nightstand drawer beside his bed to grab a Dreamless Sleep draught. He rarely had two visions of Voldemort in one go, but decided not to take the risk. He was out cold in minutes, wrapped in the unnatural blackness brought on by the potion.

"Harry, come on mate, wake up," Ron shouted, startling him out of sleep. He shot up in bed and glanced all around. Ron was the only person in sight and the light coming through the windows explained why. He squinted his eyes with pain from the assault of light.

"Wha…Ron?"

"Yes, you dunderhead. We've let you sleep all morning, but now it's time to get up. It's lunchtime and Hermione wants us to grab something quickly before meeting her by the lake." The redhead proceeded to pull his best friend out of bed in a most unceremonious manner. Harry flopped on the floor with a groan, rolled onto his back, and reached for his bed.

"I don't wanna. I'm going back to sleep right now and if you try something like that again I'll hex you." He tried to climb back into bed but Ron barred his way.

"No you don't. Get your lazy arse dressed and downstairs or I'll do it for you!"

Harry tossed him a challenging glare. "You wouldn't." Ron pushed him onto the bed, shoved a knee into his stomach, and began to pull his shirt off. "Ron…bloody hell…stop right-…friggin bastard…FINE," he finally shouted. He angrily shoved his friend to the side and hopped up. Stalking to the trunk at the foot of his bed, he muttered incomprehensible, yet surely vile, curses.

"Good, now let's go," Ron said after Harry finished getting dressed. Harry made dirty faces to the back of his friends head all the way down to the Great Hall.

His fellow Gryffindors gave him concerned glances as he sat down and began filling his plate. He set his cutlery down sharply and glared at all of them. "What?"

"Harry, are you feeling alright," Neville asked gently. Harry's recent mercurial moods could be quite scary for the sensitive boy.

"Yeah, you look like hell," Ginny stated bluntly, quickly getting back to her turkey sandwich.

"I'm perfectly fine, why do you ask, Neville?"

"Duh," Seamus chimed in. "Because you look like hell, genius."

Harry made a sound very close to a growl and stood up abruptly. "Let's go, Ron." He turned and walked away without checking to see if his friend followed.

"But, Harry," Ron whined after him. "Lunch!"

Ginny slapped her brother upside the head. "You pissed him off when waking him up, didn't you?"

"Probably startled him awake and threatened him when Harry tried going back to sleep," Dean said sagely.

"It's not my fault he gets huffy if you don't let him wake up naturally! I'd much rather deal with a grumpy Harry than an angry Hermione. Much less scary." With that, he grabbed up some sandwiches and ran to follow his friend. When he got past the doors, Harry had disappeared. Figuring he'd gone to the lake, Ron headed in that direction. Jogging up to Hermione, Harry was nowhere in sight.

"You did wake him up, didn't you, Ron," Hermione asked sharply. She was sitting surrounded by schoolbooks weighing down rolls of parchment and quills neatly lined up with their respective bottle of colored ink. Having decided to reinstate study time, she compromised by having it outside instead of the dusty library. The concession must have cost her big.

"Of course I did," he snapped back indignantly. Sometimes he wondered how they staid friends, considering her low opinion of his ability to perform even the simplest of tasks. It was tremendously frustrating. "I take that to mean he never arrived here, then?"

"You mean you lost him!"

"He stormed out of the Great Hall when the others started ribbing him."

"Why didn't you follow him," she yelled, standing up and shoving her face into his to do so.

"I assumed he'd have come here, knowing you wanted to see us and all," he yelled right back. "Not that I blame him for taking the chance to run!"

"What's that supposed to mean, Ronald Weasley?"

"Precisely what I said! If I'd thought about it, I'd probably have done the same!"

"Well good thing you're not too swift on the up take. What _is_ this grudge you have against me for trying to shape you and Harry into better students? I'm doing it for your own good!"

"You're being a bloody nuisance, is what you're doing! I swear, it's like living with my mother year round instead of just during breaks!"

"Wha...how dare…," Hermione sputtered for a few more moments. She seemed at a loss for words, but that never lasted for long. "YOUR MOTHER? Ronald Weasley, that is the absolute limit! You pig! You rat! You…BASTARD!" She had balled up a fist and hit him in the chest with each insult.

"Fine," he yelled. "I'll find him on my own. We never needed you anyways!" Turning on a heel, they stalked away from each other. Hermione was mumbling under her breath about nasty horrible hexes in very tender areas and Ron simply looked murderous. Both were completely mindless to the large crowd they had attracted.

Harry watched the confrontation between his two best friends from a second floor window. It had completely slipped his mind that Hermione wanted to see them until he'd witnessed the yelling and screaming. He didn't feel particularly worried about this temporary rift in their friendship; Ron and Hermione argued horribly all the time. They would be speaking to each other within a few days and everything would be back to normal in less than a week. Harry, along with the whole school, was of the opinion that Hogwarts would be much more peaceful if they'd just admit they wanting to shag like bunnies.

"Pathetic, aren't they?"

"Did you expect something different? It's the Weasel and Granger!"

Harry whirled around at the voices, coming face to face with Pansy and Draco. Even though he'd been thinking along those same lines only a moment before, Harry felt the need to defend his friends. "They are not," he growled out articulately.

"_Please_, Potter. If they'd just come clean about wanting to rip each others clothes off, things like this would happen much less often."

Both Harry and Draco pulled a face. "Darling, I really didn't need that mental image."

"Oh you poor baby. Temperamental stomach? If you can't handle something like that, how do you do it, having to look at that pasty face everyday?"

Pansy twittered at her friend's expense. Draco shot her a withering glare and grabbed her arm before responding. "As much fun as I'd have standing here exchanging insults with you, we have somewhere to be." He began to drag Pansy down the hall, ignoring the girls squeals of protest.

"She hasn't been caught yet," Harry called, looking out the window at the surrounding mountains.

Draco froze and slowly turned towards the brunette boy. Pushing his companion ahead, Pansy went on without him, tossing concerned glances over her shoulder until out of sight. All of his attention was focused in on Harry. "What did you just say," he asked icily.

"I said Voldemort hasn't captured her yet. As of this morning, she'd still managed to evade his Death Eaters." He continued speaking in a quiet voice. "I've wracked my brain trying to figure out who _you _would care about enough to have such an outburst. It just didn't make sense, given what a self-centered ass you are. I think I've got it now, though."

"Do you really," Draco asked in an expressionless voice.

"Yes," Harry said, turning to face the other boy. Somehow, Draco had moved within an arms reach of him, making not a sound. Alarm briefly flared through his chest but not enough to quiet him. "The only woman I can think of that you would care about, and who would also be your father's responsibility, is your mother. Am I right?"

"What if you are," Draco asked in a low dangerous purr. The alarm returned, only not as a fleeting emotion this time. He had never seen such a deadly expression on his rival's face. The realization came that he didn't know what Draco was capable of, and was now alone with him in a deserted hallway.

"Just thought to pass on the information, is all," Harry said, making his voice sound unruffled. The effect was dampened, however, when he backed himself into the windowsill as Draco slowly advanced on him. Suddenly, he was slammed against the opposite wall and gasping for breath from the impact when a hand was clenched onto his throat.

"What do you know, Potter?" Draco's face was pulled into a feral snarl, his eyes darkened with rage. When Harry didn't stop gasping, he squeezed even harder, making the poor boy's eyes pop out. "Has that demented woman rubbed off a bit; are you suddenly a seer, Potter? Answer me, damn it! What's happened to my mother?" The desperation in his voice would have been moving if Harry weren't so focused on not being able to breathe. He slapped and gouged at Draco's hands to get the message across to let go a bit. Finally understanding, he released Harry's throat and grabbed hold of his robes. "Well?" Harry spent a few precious moments gulping air into his starved lungs, trying to fend off the impending blackness. "Potter," Draco yelled, banging him against the wall.

"Nothing! I don't know anything other than what I've told you, I swear. That's all I was able to see."

The blonde looked at him suspiciously. "So you are a seer, then?"

"No. I'm sure your father's told you about my link with Voldemort?" It was curious to note that there was no reaction to the Dark Lord's name. Most people flinched, at least. "Well, even if he hadn't, Voldemort knows about it already, so there can't be any harm in telling you."

"So you saw my mother through this link with You-know-who?"

"Not your mother, Voldemort. I saw him punishing a Death Eater for failing to bring her in and then putting your father on the job." That did get a reaction. His face became swamped with worry and terror. If this weren't such an odd moment, and this wasn't Malfoy, Harry probably would have felt quite sorry for him.

"Merlin, she should be here, where I can protect her. He'll kill her!" Malfoy or not, he couldn't stand by without saying something to soothe that pain.

"Only _if_ he can find her; she's evaded them so far." He'd meant it to sound encouraging, but Draco's face just became darker.

He seemed lost in thought for a few moments, completely oblivious to the fact that he still had Harry pressed against the wall. "Who was the Death Eater?"

"Jonas Zacherby." Harry was shocked when Draco flinched at the name and his face grew troubled.

"How did they punish him," he asked sadly.

"You probably don't…it mean, it's not really-"

"Tell me!" Harry was banged against the wall for good measure.

"H-his whole family was slaughtered and Voldemort made him watch. They were blown to pieces."

"He only followed because Father made him afraid of what would happen to his family if he didn't." He went quiet for a few moments. "He probably didn't search very hard for Mother so that she had a better chance of escape."

"I'm sorry," Harry said.

"Don't feel sorry for me, pity Jonas. He served a monster to save his family and it ended up getting them killed." He seemed to finally realize that Harry was still trapped between him and the wall. He moved back quickly, brushing off his hands as if having touched something dirty. "You're sure there's nothing else? Did they have an inkling of my mother's location?"

"No. Not that they said while I was there, anyways."

"Why did you tell me this?"

The question caught him off guard and he remained quiet for a bit, trying to figure that out for himself. "Because," he finally said. "Voldemort threatened that you weren't completely untouchable if your father fails. Figured to give you the heads up. And-" He stopped suddenly, realizing how silly this was going to sound, considering who it was.

"What?"

"Well…you always seem so in control, even when being a total git. You must love her very much to have let your magic go wild like that. It just didn't seem right, not telling you she was safe. That's all." Draco stared into his eyes as if trying to crawl inside his mind. Harry was quite grateful for all of those occulemancy lessons.

Finally, he broke into the Malfoy smirk. "You are _such_ a Hufflepuff."

"I am not," Harry said, outraged at the insult.

"Right, you're a Gryffindork. You may go now."

Harry scowled at the imperious tone. "Thanks ever so much, your majesty. Glad I have your permission after almost strangling me to death."

"It takes far longer than that to kill someone by strangulation."

"Really, and how would you know?" Draco looked at him coldly, and Harry decided he'd rather not find out.

**2ND AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Yea! 10th chapter! This is the farthest I've ever gotten on a posted fic! I'm all proud of me and stuff! Also, reviews **_would_** be appreciated! Just a thought.


	11. All's Well For Now

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters. 'Sides, you'd get more blood out of a turnip then you would money out of me! HA!

**AUTHORS NOTE: **Hey all! Hope you're enjoying reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing it. FYI, I'm going on hiatus for a bit. Sorry, but I don't have internet access at home and have to drive 40 miles round trip from home to the library and back. I promise to keep working on it so the next update will be a lump, but I **have **save my gas (and money incidentally). It's about $2.30 just for regular around here. Hope you understand.

**SUMMARY: **Harry feels like he's in hell, Draco's living through a nightmare. Can they help each other before it's too late to save either one?

**FROM THE LAST ****CH.** "Right, you're a Gryffindork. You may go now."/ Harry scowled at the imperious tone. "Thanks ever so much, your majesty. Glad I have your permission after almost strangling me to death."/ "It takes far longer than that to kill someone by strangulation."/ "Really, and how would you know?" Draco looked at him coldly, and Harry decided he'd rather not find out.

**_Tainting the Innocent_**

**_Chapter Eleven_**

A few days had passed since the incident in the hallway. Occasionally, Draco would briefly glance in Harry's direction and receive a little shake of the head to show there was nothing to report. This little bit of interaction didn't go unnoticed by the ever vigilant Pansy. One morning, she hopped up and straddled him in bed, getting a dagger pressed against her throat. He pulled the blade away and began cursing fluently.

"Damn it, Pansy, what the hell were you thinking? I could have killed you!"

"What's going on between you and Potter," she asked, leaning her face closely into his with an arm braced on either side of his head. "Don't bother trying to lie to me, Drake, I know you too well. Is he the person you're shagging? The one from another house?" He was so shocked by her question it seemed that he forget he'd almost slit her throat.

Draco had completely forgotten his little purposeful misconception. It had seemed much more convenient than telling her the truth at the time, but now he wanted to kick himself in the ass. "Heaven's no! I'm not sleeping with anyone, from this house or any other."

"Really," she said disbelievingly. "Then why did you sneak out after curfew the other week? What was more enticing than that party?"

"Pansy," he said in exasperation. "That was the night I learned my father had escaped. I've already told you all about that."

"Oh," she said looking thoughtful. "Why did you lie to me?"

"There were so many people about that I didn't want to chance being overheard."

"Aaah, ok. So you're sure you're not shagging Potter?"

"No!"

"Okay then," she said. "So what happened the other day? Who was he talking about?"

"My mother," he said quietly, reclining back in bed. "He told me that she was relatively safe, for now. She's managed to avoid the Death Eaters set on her trail, but now Father has been assigned to the task."

"What," she asked quietly, a widening of the eyes the only sign that this news distressed her. "Do you believe him?"

He nodded his head. "Father's owl that very evening confirmed everything. He asked me to wish him well in his hunt for the Blood Traitor. The sick bastard thinks I support him whole heartedly, even when it means my mother's death."

She could think of nothing to say that would comfort her friend, Draco would never tolerate pity, so she asked a question that was burning in her mind. "How could Potter possibly know before Lucius contacted you?"

Draco stared into her eyes intently, trying to decide whether to tell her or not. He had a feeling it would be better if few people knew about Potter's link with the Dark Lord, but this was Pansy. She'd stood with him against obstacles that would have cowed older witches and had nursed him through innumerable fights and beatings. Something inside prevented him from betraying Potter's ability. Voldemort may already be aware of the link, but that didn't mean the knowledge should be bandied about freely.

"You're not going to tell me."

"I can't, P." She closed her eyes and sighed but nodded that she understood before pressing her forehead to his.

"I'm glad she's okay," she said quietly.

"Me too," he whispered back, adjusting his head as she slipped hers below his chin. They remained like that for several moments, each lost in their own thoughts as she was lulled by his heartbeat.

"Are you sure you're not shagging him," she suddenly asked.

"Pan-sy," Draco groaned out in exasperation, glad that she had broken the gloomy atmosphere.

"What?" She sat up, her face a study on wide-eyed innocence. The act didn't fool him for a moment, though. She was trying to catch him out. The silly chit had gotten it into her head that Potter was his personal Hole of Glory and would not cease this badgering until fully convinced otherwise.

"Good God, woman, it's Potter! I wouldn't shag him if he were the last human being on Earth. I'd go bestial before that, so will you drop it."

Heaving a great sigh, she slid to the floor. She skipped away and paused at the door, tossing a wicked smile over her shoulder. "Too bad, really; you'd make a cute couple," she said impishly before dashing off, leaving Draco to sputter indignantly.

"Okay team, let's do that again! This isn't difficult, people, so I want to see some improvement this go." Ron circled his weary team in the rain, trying to talk them into attempting his absolutely brilliant maneuver for the umpteenth time. Everyone groaned at this announcement and began arguing. No one voice could be heard over the many telling Ron explicitly what he could do with his broomstick.

"Ronald Weasley," Ginny yelled over everyone else in her best Mrs. Weasley impersonation. They all fell silent and began edging their brooms away from the petite redhead, afraid of the violence in her expression. "We are exhausted, we are wet, and we are hungry! You have been working us like house elves since _before_ lunch, and we won't take it anymore." Ron's face twisted with temper and he opened his mouth to argue but Ginny continued, talking right over him.

"No one but Harry has mastered this duck-roll-scoopy-whatever, and working our arses raw won't make it happen any sooner." She paused to take a deep breath to calm her nerves before she hexed her dear brother into oblivion. "We are leaving now, Ron, and you had better not argue. Feel lucky we don't strip you of your leadership because of this disgusting example of tyranny," she said scathingly before flying towards the locker rooms, the rest of the team following shortly after.

Ron worked his mouth like a gold fish before finding his voice. "All of you get back here right this instant," he yelled. "We need to win that game against Ravenclaw next week! Don't make me suspend the lot of you!" His eyes widened in fright as Ginny sped at him with her wand arm extended towards his face. She gave an angry shout and Ron was spun in circles by the force of the famous Ginny Weasley Bat-Bogey Hex.

Harry, in the middle of taking off his soaking robes, looked up as Ginny came stomping into the room. "Where's Ron," he asked, concern tingeing his words.

"I haven't the faintest idea," she replied breezily, pulling her robes off in one motion and marching back towards the showers.

"Ginny," Harry said sternly, following her into the warm steam. "What did you do to Ron?"

"Not a damn thing he didn't deserve," she said heatedly before pulling the stall curtain closed. Harry stared at the swaying white canvas worriedly, wondering if he should throw his wet clothes back on and go find his friend. He decided against it though, as the warmth of the room began to seep into his cold body.

"I know Ron's been a right git since we elected him Captain, Ginny," Harry called out as he stepped into the stall next to hers. "You have to admit, though, that he isn't any harder on us than he is on himself. I watched him practice this dive-scoop-roll for hours the other day. Hermione and I had a hell of a time convincing him to go see Pomfrey for those broom sores, I can tell you."

"So what are you saying," Katie bell asked, interrupting from two stalls down. "That we should cut him some slack because he's a neurotic, obsessive bastard with way too much time on his hands?"

"Noooooo," Harry said gurgley, rinsing the shampoo from his hair. "I'm saying to cut him some slack because he's doing the best he can and doesn't want to fail the team or ruin our almost perfect record." He stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist, and faced Ginny who had just finished with her own. "All I'm asking is that you try to be patient with him. This is his first real chance to prove something and it's got him a nervous wreck." Ginny looked up at him, her face softening a bit, and nodded her head. Harry grinned and tousled her hair playfully before heading off to dress.

Harry and Hermione sat in front of the common room fire that night, talking as they waited for Ron to show up. They had received word earlier from the infirmary that he was being treated for the Bat-Bogey Hex and would be there shortly.

"Oh, how could she have hexed her own brother," Hermione fumed.

"You weren't there, 'Mione. He was out of control! Even threatened to suspend the lot of us for finally throwing in the towel."

"Oh, all right then, so maybe he deserved it."

"Yup, but she promised me right after our showers that she'll try being more patient." He saw Hermione shudder and quirked an eyebrow.

"You all share the same showers," she explained. "It just seems so…inappropriate."

"They're my teammates," Harry said shocked, because that explained everything to him.

"I know, I know: once on a Quidditch team, you lose your gender to the other members."

"Exactly. We can't afford to think of each other in terms of boy/girl, so everyone just becomes part of the whole."

"Guess that's what happened with Ginny then, huh? I've noticed her crush on you has cleared up considerably."

"What are you talking about? Ginny never fancied me; she's my best mate's baby sister! Practically mine."

"Har-ry," Hermione said laughingly. "You're so adorably obtuse sometimes." Harry blushed at the back handed compliment and rolled his eyes as Hermione continued laughing.

"What's so funny," a tired voice asked from the portal. Harry and Hermione smiled as they watched their friend trip over Neville's toad.

"Harry doesn't believe me that Ginny ever fancied him," Hermione explained, barely managing to hold in her mirth. Ron looked at his friend for a few moments and then burst out laughing as well.

"Fine, whatever," Harry said in a huff. "So I'm an unobservant shmuck. I got it already, so will you two _please_ stop cackling like a pair of crones?"

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said with a final chuckle. "We mean no harm by it."

"Hmpf," was his reply before laughing manically and attacking his two friends with the chair cushion.

**2ND AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Decided to end this one on a happy note since there is plenty of angst to come. It's taken so long getting this out because I wanted to post two chaps at once, but have gotten stuck on the beginning of 12. Hey, for those of you who've read my one-shot _In the Dark of the Night _and either reviewed or sent emails: I **_might_** continue that later on, but it probably won't be until I've finishes with this fic. I've already had problems getting the chaps out b/c of invading plot bunnies and brain farts. I don't need any more distractions. Thanks for your interest in the story, though!


	12. Mama Parkinson

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters. 'Sides, you'd get more blood out of a turnip then you would money out of me! HA!

**AUTHORS NOTE: **I'M BACK! If you would be so kind, review and tell me what you think of this. I had the sudden urge at 3 am to wax poetic over good ol' Voldie. FYI, it doesn't rhyme because I happen to love free verse.

They come to me lily white,

pure to the core,

but leave jaded and flawed.

I show the world as it really is,

hate, lies, death,

and tarnish their virgin skin.

I'm tainting the innocent, snuffing out their light,

they dream of glory, I kill them slowly,

tainting the innocent to feed my greedy pride.

**SUMMARY: **Harry feels like he's in hell, Draco's living through a nightmare. Can they help each other before it's too late to save either one?

**FROM THE LAST CH.:** "Fine, whatever," Harry said in a huff. "So I'm an unobservant shmuck. I got it already, so will you two _please_ stop cackling like a pair of crones?"/ "Oh, Harry," Hermione said with a final chuckle. "We mean no harm by it."/ "Hmpf," was his reply before laughing manically and attacking his two friends with the chair cushion.

**_Tainting the Innocent_**

**_Chapter Twelve_**

He stalked along the corridor on his way back to the Gryffindor common rooms while thinking over what had just happened. Eleanor Burmingsdale, a fifth year Hufflepuff, had stopped right in his path and, egged on by her giggling housemates, asked him the Halloween Dance. Harry had been about to gladly accept, Eleanor was a very pretty girl after all, when her friends began whispering loudly.

"Ooooh," one of them squealed in excitement. "He's going to say yes! Lucky Ellie; going to the dance with _the_ Harry Potter!" They all had quite similar things to say on the subject and Harry's response soured in his mouth. He declined the invitation with cold civility and left her to scold the twittering biddies for scaring him away. His stormy expression as he swept through the halls had the poor little first years scuttling away in fear until he was blessedly alone.

_Of course she doesn't want to go with **me**_, Harry thought bitterly, kicking at a stray piece of crumpled parchment lying on the floor. _She just wants the Boy-Who-Lived._ He stopped to glare out a window, the serenity of the moonlit scene an affront to his thinned temper. _All anyone ever wants is the bloody Boy-Who-Lived. No one seems to realize I'm a human being, not even Ron and Hermione. I'm a very valuable tool now, but they'll probably forget all about me once Voldemort's dead. Won't have anymore use, now will I?_

His face grew sad as he contemplated his future for the millionth time. He'd been doing that so much lately that he couldn't sleep and Hermione was beginning to worry over how tired he looked. _What do I do after killing the insane mass murderer, if I even survive? An office job with the Ministry's going to seem boring when compared to the life I've lived so far,_ he thought, slipping down onto the cool stone.

He drew his knees up to his chest and rested his head on them. "What am I going to do," he whispered quietly. He slowed his breathing to prevent the rising depression. Nothing was going how he thought it would after discovering the wizarding world. It had been such a miracle that first day, but then he'd found out about Voldemort and his parents. Even then, the lunatic was ruining Harry's life and continued to do so every chance he got. But once he was gone, what good would Harry be to society? He'd been born to kill this man, so what was left once that was done?

He remained that way for several minutes, trying to figure something to do with his life after destroying the worst evil the world has ever known, and slowly drifted off into sleep.

_"It is done, My Lord," Lucius Malfoy gushed, looking quite proud. _

_"Good," he hissed, studying the blonde man kneeling at his feet. "I trust you have proof of your deed."_

_Fear briefly flashed over the aristocrat's face before he answered with a slight tremble. "Yes, My Lord, but I fear it isn't much. The spell I used to kill the blood traitor incinerated her body. This is all that was salvageable." Lucius snapped his fingers and a house elf toddled forward with a bloodstained handkerchief. The cowering creature unwrapped the gory parcel and revealed a slightly singed finger decorated with a simple opal ring. "The ring was a birthday gift from my son this summer."_

_"This was all, you're sure," he asked doubtfully. _

_"Yes, my lord," Lucius replied. He could see no falsehood in his follower's mind, but something didn't ring true._

_"You knew before taking on this mission," he said coldly, "that I would expect evidence. A finger bearing a ring I do not recognize is not adequate proof."_

_"I did, My Lord," Lucius said, his voice trembling more than before. "Unfortunately, the protective magics that she had cloaked herself in reacted explosively with mine. There was nothing left to bring back, other than this." Something still didn't seem right about the whole thing, but he would digest it for a few days, torture it out of Malfoy if necessary. _

_"Very well, Lucius, you may go," he said testily. "In the future, however, be certain to follow my orders to the letter." _

_"Thank you for your understanding, my Lord." Relief washed over Lucius's face before he stood and walked away, the finger bearing house elf running to keep up. _

Harry felt his consciousness come rushing back and pain exploded through his body, originating in his scar. He rolled onto his side and lay their whimpering for a moment before struggling to his feet. "I've got to find Malfoy," he gasped out, stumbling towards his dorms and the Marauder's Map.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

He'd been battling it out in the Astronomy Tower for quite awhile though his breathing remained level. His movements were eerily silent, agile, and deadly as he shifted his body through the positions.

"Shadowboxing, Draco," asked the indolent voice of Blaise Zambini as he climbed up the ladder.

"Really, darling, you should have just asked," Pansy continued, following him in and shutting the trapdoor.

"How'd you know I'd be here," he asked. Draco waved his hand in dismissal and his shadow sank back into the floor, stretching out behind him in the moonlight. He dropped into a defensive position as the other two Slytherins gracefully circled him, looking for an opening to attack.

"Didn't," Blaise said, feinting before continuing his prowl. "Came here for a good spar ourselves; you're just an added bonus." They both rushed him then and there was no more time for talk. The three friends held nothing back as they pummeled each other, fists and feet striking viciously against flesh. The attacking two were having a difficult time landing blows and deflecting them despite the fact that Draco had already been at this for two hours. The three of them continued on to the brink of exhaustion, neither side willing to give in, until it became obvious that he wouldn't be brought down. They fell apart and lay panting on the stone floor.

"How d'you do it, Drake," Blaise asked.

"Hm," was the tired reply.

"Push yourself that far; keep giving just as good as before even when you're zonked."

"I'm just better than you, Zambini," Draco said cockily. "No tricks involved."

"Hey now, you-"

"_Boys_," Pansy said shortly, sitting up slowly. The bickering ceased instantly and the two offenders returned her glare with sheepish glances. "Save this for the morning, won't you? Let's head down to bed now." She rose from the floor unsteadily and opened the trap door.

"Yay, bed," Blaise said enthusiastically. "Come on, Drake, let's turn in."

"You two go ahead," the blonde said, lying on the floor with hands behind his head. "I want to stay a bit longer."

"It's getting quite chilly, Draco; maybe you should-"

"Pansy," he groaned, tossing her a look of exasperation. "Will you please quit mothering me? It really doesn't suit you."

"Hmpf," she said huffily and stormed down the ladder.

"Did you really have to use the m-word to her face," Blaise whined. "Now she'll be bitchy for days and the guys and I'll be the one's to bare it."

"So sorry, really I am," he said insincerely. "Do make sure to close the door on your way down."

Rolling his eyes at the blonde, Blaise climbed down to try and placate a pissy Pansy, closing the door after himself

**2ND AUTOR'S NOTE:** I know I promised a lump for this update and it's a short one to boot, but I NEED A BETA! Oh, pretty, pretty please! Also, I wont update anymore until I get some constructive reviews. Hmpf! As much as I love any type of feed back, "update soon" and "cool fic" don't really help me grow as a writer. Thank you.


	13. The Midnight Gift

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters. 'Sides, you'd get more blood out of a turnip then you would money out of me! HA!

**AUTHORS NOTE: **Hey, sorry about that last chapter. Also, I _really_ need a beta, so if someone out there in readerland could volunteer, that would be greatly appreciated.

**SUMMARY: **Harry feels like he's in hell, Draco's living through a nightmare. Can they help each other before it's too late to save either one?

**FROM THE LAST CH.:** "Pansy," he groaned, tossing her a look of exasperation. "Will you please quit mothering me? It really doesn't suit you."/ "Hmpf," she said huffily and stormed down the ladder. / "Did you really have to use the m-word to her face," Blaise whined. "Now she'll be bitchy for days and the guys and I'll be the one's to bare it."/ "So sorry, really I am," he said insincerely. "Do make sure to close the door on your way down."/ Rolling his eyes at the blonde, Blaise climbed down to try and placate a pissy Pansy, closing the door after himself

**_Tainting the Innocent_**

**_Chapter Thirteen_**

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good," Harry said urgently, tapping the grimy piece of parchment with his wand. He was standing a little away from the Fat Lady, ignoring her grumbles about rude invisible people with no manners whatsoever. _The Astronomy Tower_, he thought in shock. _What could he possibly be doing there at this time of night…never mind, I don't really care. It'll be easier getting to him this way. _

He hurried down the halls towards the far off tower, the previous agony reduced to slight twinges.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

He lay on the hard stone, smooth from the feet of a millennia of stargazers. The air had an autumnal bite and the sky was crystal clear. It seemed as if every star hung sparkling like diamonds, a full moon imparting an iridescent glow to the night. He closed his eyes with a contented sigh, almost able to feel the icy fingers of light smoothing over his white skin. He relaxed in the moonlight for a few more minutes before stretching and heading off towards the dungeons.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

He was almost at the Tower when, glancing down, he noticed the little blob labeled Draco Malfoy was no longer there. _Nononono,_ He thought worriedly, searching the map for Malfoy. _He's on the move…what if he gets to the Slytherin dorms before I can reach him?_ Just as he was shifting his path to try and intercept Draco, the other boy began doubling back. _Make up your bleeding mind, Malfoy,_ Harry thought irritably, changing direction again.

Moving as fast as he dared, not wanting to announce his presence to Filch or Mrs. Norris, Harry wondered to himself why it was so important to get this information to Malfoy immediately. _Merlin, how am I going to tell him his mum's dead!_

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

"Drat," Draco spat out, turning and heading back to the Tower. He'd forgotten his schoolbag on top of the tower. He swiftly strolled back the way he'd come, but suddenly stopped as footsteps echoed through the hall. Remembering the last time that happened, Draco kept going, making sure to keep in plain sight.

He had just made it to the ladder when a loud screech tore the night. An owl came hurdling past his head and left just as quickly after dropping a jewelry box and envelope at his feet. A sense of foreboding swirled in his chest as he bent to pick up the delivery; the Owl Post never ran this late. He opened the letter first, and then tore off the lid of the box in his haste. After staring at the gory contents for a moment, his strangled scream ricocheted through the halls.

"Malfoy," Harry whispered and ran all the faster, uncaring if Filch should notice. Pulling the cloak from over his head, he rushed towards the agonized sound.

Draco had collapsed at the foot of the ladder, clinging to it for support with a white-knuckled grip. He stared at a small black box with a blank, glazed expression. "Malfoy," Harry said quietly. The other boy swung his gaze up to Harry's face. His shoulders shook with gasping sobs, though no tears trailed down his cheeks.

"Malfoy, what happened?" Harry kneeled there on the floor, careful to give Draco plenty of space: he remembered quite well what had happened the last time Malfoy had gotten this emotional.

Harry's expression grew grim as he read the note that was passed to him. _A trophy, my son. The blood traitor is no more. Consider your allegiances. _He could guess what was in the box. "My mum," Draco said, his voice soft and faintly child-like.

"I'm so sorry."

"But you said she was alright," he cried out, a single tear finally escaping his frigid mask. "You said…"

"I know," Harry said, tears blurring his eyes. The situation struck him as almost funny; he rarely cried, but was now shedding tears for none other than Draco Malfoy. "I'm so sorry," he repeated, trying to blink back the tears. "I just had the vision and came to find you immediately."

"Y-you _saw_ them kill her," he choked out, his voice cracking at the end.

"No, only…" He paused there, unsure of how to tell the other boy that his father had performed this atrocity. "I only saw a Death Eater report back to Voldemort that the deed was done."

"Lucius," Draco stated in an expressionless voice. Harry didn't know what to say to that so he stared at the floor. He did not miss, however, that the other boy purposefully used the man's name instead of "father". When he finally raised his eyes to Draco's face, the other boy had retreated behind his cold expressionless mask once again. "I already know the answer Potter, but I still want to hear you say it's true." His voice had returned to its usual scathing tone. Despite the situation, relief flooded through Harry that he wouldn't have to deal with a hysterical Malfoy.

"Yes," he said, returning his eyes to the floor. "He was reporting to Voldemort and then showed his…proof."

"You mean this," Draco said, opening the box and showing the ringed finger to Harry.

"Yes." He had to push the word past the nausea building in his throat.

Draco snapped the box closed and stared intently into Harry's eyes. He seemed to come to a decision and stood up. "Follow me," he ordered before climbing the tower stairs once again. Harry debated whether that would be wise or not but decided to take the chance. He'd barely gotten through the door before it was slammed behind him. "Potter, just how much control do you have over these visions? Can you do anything else besides piggy-back occasionally?"

"L-like what," he asked warily.

"Like reading his mind or controlling his actions."

"I honestly don't know," Harry admitted. "I've never tried."

"Why in the world not," Draco asked explosively, looking truly baffled.

"If you found out one day you were sharing the mind of a mad man, would you do anything other than try and shut that connection down," he asked heatedly, screwing his face into a scowl. Angrily, Draco opened his mouth to respond but Harry just kept talking right over him. "If you constantly had to guard your mind or every waking moment would be filled with his murders? If you were so absorbed by the visions you couldn't separate him from you when they occurred?"

"I…didn't realize they were so involved," he said through his teeth, trying to reign in his temper.

"Yeah, well now you do," Harry replied testily. He hugged himself and looked out over the castle grounds before continuing in a subdued voice. "I…sometimes even I forget who's who when I'm not 'piggy-backing', as you put it."

"Never mind," Draco said dismissively, realizing that he'd seriously upset the other boy. "It doesn't mat-"

"Yes it does," Harry interrupted quietly. "To you, anyways, or you wouldn't have said anything. Last year, Dumbledore was worried that Voldemort could use the link to possess me. He did use it to send a false vision. So maybe…maybe I can do stuff like that too."

"Potter, you're supposed to be the only person who can destroy him, is it true?" Startled by the change of subject, Harry whipped his head around and nodded before shrugging. "What the hell was that," Draco asked in exasperation. "Either you are or you aren't."

"The prophecy says so, but it was made by Trelawney, so I don't know how reliable it is."

"_Professor_ Trelawney!"

"Yeah," Harry said with a smirk. "Apparently, she's not a _complete_ fraud. Shocking, isn't it?"

"Very." They stood in silence a few moments more. "You'd probably have to be a very skilled _Legillimens_," Draco continued, picking up their previous conversation.

"Don't know it," Harry said with a shake of his head. "All I ever learned was _Occulamancy_, and I'm horrible." Draco made a noncommittal "hmmm". "Why did you want to know," Harry questioned.

"About?"

"My link with Voldemort."

"Oh, just a flash of inspiration that said you may be able to help me get revenge against Lucius."

"You want me to help you kill your own father!"

"Yes," Draco said with cold sincerity. "And please, don't refer to that man as my father." His face became fierce. "He's nothing to me now."

"Oh."

"I could teach you, you know."

"Huh?"

"You grunt out responses more than Crabbe and Goyle combined," he said in annoyance. "I said I could teach you. _Legillimency._"

"You know _Legillimency_?" Harry was quite surprised.

"No, I just thought to offer because it'd be a pleasant way to pass the time, don't you think."

"Ok, ok, stupid question."

"Do you ask any other kind?" They glared at each other before Draco continued. "I'm not the most skilled, but that's one beneficial difference from Occulamancy. I could be the worst in the world and still teach someone perfectly as long as I know the basic rules."

"Oh," Harry said, causing Draco to roll his eyes. He chewed his lip for a few moments, trying to decide if he could tolerate Malfoy long enough to learn anything. They'd kept things rather in explosive for this conversation, but Harry had been choking back retorts the entire time. "Um, do you think we'd be able to do it without killing each other?"

"You're the only one who'd have to worry about that, so why should I care." Harry scowled at that and Draco just smirked.

"You'll be teaching me so that I can help you get revenge against your-against Lucius?"

"Yes," Draco bit out, a vicious expression suddenly on his face.

"Any idea how I'm supposed to mess with Voldemort's mind after I learn from you?"

"Do I have to think of everything," he exploded, throwing his hands into the air. "I teach you _Legillimency,_ you figure out how to crawl though his brain, _we_ figure out how to kill that sodding bastard! Now, was any of that difficult to understand?"

"No," Harry growled, restraining himself from socking Malfoy in the face.

"Good! Now what's your blasted answer!"

"Fine," Harry said after some thought.

"Finally! Meet me here to morrow night after dinner."

"I can't. Ron scheduled Quidditch practice."

"Skip," Draco said with a smirk. He turned on his heel and began to walk away when Harry grabbed his arm and spun him around.

"I can't do that either, you prat," he ground out. Draco glared at the hand gripping his arm and suppressed the urge to do bodily harm. He needed Potter and couldn't go smacking him about…yet. "We'll meet the night after that."

"Well, what if that's not good for me," Draco hissed out.

"Malfoy, I'm learning this so that I can help _you,_ not _me._ Work with me here and I promise not to rearrange your pretty face," Harry threatened. His green eyes glowed with anger, faces close enough to feel each others breath on their lips. Draco nodded slowly, entranced by the sudden feeling of helplessness. He never felt helpless. "Good, see you in two days then." With that, Harry stalked away, slamming the door behind him.

Draco remained on the tower until he could no longer hear Harry's footsteps or angry mutterings. His hand had just reached for the latch when an errant thought floated through his head. _Did he just call me pretty?_

**2ND AUTHOR'S NOTE:** I promise that there's a reason for all of this weirdness surrounding Draco and his friends. A big and (hopefully) good reason. I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter, and please review. I wouldn't even mind those filled with criticism as long as their constructive. Thank you.

**WRITER RAMBLE:** Have you ever had this problem when writing: the big things (plot twists and such) are quite clear as the story unfolds in your mind, but filling in the spaces between those milestones is quite difficult and tedious. What's your opinion on this?


	14. Tension in the Tower

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters. 'Sides, you'd get more blood out of a turnip then you would money out of me! HA!

**AUTHORS NOTE: **It's short. I'm sorry. I have a question…A friend and I disagree on how to pronounce Seamus's name…is it SEE-MUS or SHAY-MUS? Thank you. Also, I can tell people like this story (8,000-ish hits spread almost evenly through the chapters). For that many hits though, the reviews sure are slow in coming. I don't want to do one of those ultimatum things (EX: 50 reviews before the next update) but a bit more feed back would be appreciated…just thought I'd let you know.

**SUMMARY: **Harry feels like he's in hell, Draco's living through a nightmare. Can they help each other before it's too late to save either one?

**FROM THE LAST CH.:** "Malfoy, I'm learning this so that I can help _you,_ not _me._ Work with me here and I promise not to rearrange your pretty face," Harry threatened. His green eyes glowed with anger, faces close enough to feel each others breath on their lips. Draco nodded slowly, entranced by the sudden feeling of helplessness. He never felt helpless. "Good, see you in two days then." With that, Harry stalked away, slamming the door behind him. / Draco remained on the tower until he could no longer hear Harry's footsteps or angry mutterings. His hand had just reached for the latch when an errant thought floated through his head. _Did he just call me pretty?_

This chapter was betaed by Winter Darkblade

**_Tainting the Innocent_**

**_Chapter Fourteen_**

_THUNK!_

Harry's bag fell to the floor as his eyes made a short circuit of the tower. _Not here yet. Well, he'd better hurry up._

He dropped to the floor and leaned back against the wall with a sigh. It had been rather easy getting away from his friends. Hermione was trying to recruit their housemates to her Homework Factory and had been slapping Seamus upside the head when he'd slipped out under his invisibility cloak. Ron sat in a corner looking miserably out the window, pretending to read a potions book when Hermione glared in his direction…of course, it was upside down. Harry would have felt a bit guilty abandoning all of them if he hadn't been so excited about his lessons.

_Legillimency_ Harry thought with a grin. He couldn't help but wonder where Draco had learned the technique and was a bit surprised that the other boy had offered to teach him. They weren't exactly friends. _I guess people can repress anything if they want something bad enough…even Malfoy._

Harry tilted his head back and began identifying constellations to pass the time. _Orion…Big Dipper…um, Sagittarius…uh, that crown thing…_Obviously, Astronomy wasn't his strong suit.

His thoughts slipped back to what he'd been thinking the other night. His future was uncertain at best, he knew that, but wanted that small amount of comfort that would come from having a solid plan. He was at a loss on what kind of life he wanted to pursue if Voldemort was finally defeated. He'd thought that being an Auror would be exciting and glamorous but now, after seeing how…Moody-ish the good ones turned out and making an educated guess on what happened to the bad ones, he knew that wasn't for him. After everything was said and done, the bad guy vanquished, he just wanted a nice quiet life. That was the only thing he knew for certain. Unfortunately, being who he was, that was probably the last thing he would have. A slight frown marred his brow as he sank deeper into the muzzy thoughts of his future.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

_This had better be worth it,_ Draco thought with annoyance. He didn't relish spending the amount of time with Potter as would be needed to teach him _Legillimency_ but it was necessary to his plans.

He shuddered with the memory of what had forged this partnership. _No one should get pieces of their mother in the mail,_ he thought grimly, blinking back the sudden tears. He would have plenty of time to cry once Lucius was lying at his feet in a bloody, broken heap. He'd decided no to tell his friends about his encounter with Potter or the lessons once he'd shown them the package. At first, it was because he'd been quite busy cleaning Goyle's vomit off of his bed. During that…unpleasantness, though, he realized that it would be much too dangerous to include them. Putting Potter in danger was one thing, but these people had been his friends since childhood…hell, he and Pansy had been betrothed since she was a week old. He'd be damned if he was going to endanger them because of his own revenge. His conscience even gave him a twinge over Potter.

_He's not the **only** way to get Lucius,_ he mused. _I don't even need the Dark Lord, not really, although it would be convenient to rid the world of both of them at once. Not absolutely necessary, though. _His contemplations continued as he strolled down the hall. _A single thought popped into my head and I ran with it, plan unformed until just last night…how very uncharacteristic. _

So absorbed in his own thought, he was quite shock to find himself coming up swiftly to the tower stairs. He purposefully made noise during the approach, not wanting to be hexed; Potter had a twitchy wand when startled. Draco soon noticed the caution had been pointless, however, once he stepped through the door. _He.__ Is. Not. Asleep! _Draco was furious and snatched his wand out of his pocket, juggling through the multitude of curses, hexes, and jinxes that he could throw at the offending little worm. He couldn't decide on the appropriate spell and so settled for something much more simple and effective. He kicked him.

"Ack! What the-" Harry jumped up in surprise, his glasses askew on the tip of his nose. He looked up into Draco's furious face and his eyes grew round as saucers. "Did you just _kick me_," he asked, his face full of sleepy astonishment.

"Yes, you moron! You were asleep," he said before kicking him again. Harry yelped and scooted away before standing up and turning to face Draco.

"Like that's any reason to kick me! You took so bloody long in getting here that I got bored, and when people get bored they get sleepy."

"And when people are angry at said sleepy idiots, they kick them." Which he did. Harry hopped in place, clutching his smarting shin, glaring daggers at the other boy around his crooked glasses.

"That's it," Harry growled, "I'm out of here." He swept up his bag and began limping towards the door.

"Oh no you're not, Potter," Draco spat out in anger, grabbing his shoulder and spinning him around.

They were toe to toe, anger causing magic to spark off their bodies. Their eyes were locked, neither one willing to break the contact as fists clenched in suppressed violence. Subtly, with out either boy being aware of the shift, the warmth of rage that pulsed with their hearts began to change. The fine hairs all over their bodies stood up causing goose bumps. Nerve endings tingled and breathing accelerated. Slowly, they leaned closer, the moist hot pants caressing the other's lips. Closer until the ends of their noses bumped, that small movement disturbing Harry's glasses and knocking them from his face.

The clatter was like a gun shot. Both boys lunged as far away from each other as could be achieved in such a confined space. Color rode high on their cheeks as they refused to meet each other's eyes. "I-uh," Draco cleared his throat, furious that he couldn't seem to think, let alone speak. "Go…I got to…um…"

"Yeah, me too," Harry said to the floor. "You first." Draco, not caring a lick about Malfoy decorum right then, took the opportunity and ran.

**2ND AUTHOR'S NOTE:** I just wanted to let people know, in case you've read my other fics, that I'm probably never going to finish them. Yes, yes, gasps of shock…an author admitting defeat. I started this story here as a way of breaking through the writer's block preventing me from completing the others, but it's taken a life of it's own…holy cow, I even **dream** of this dang fic! I'm going to finish this one and continue on with other plot bunnies spinning through my head (Draco being turned into a girl, Harry becoming a mutant werewolf and making half the school his pack, a twisted Tom/Harry time travel fic, a melding of this dimension and another where Harry and Ron are evil, Draco and Hermione are in love, and the Weasley twins are serious…Oooo, that one scares even me. :shudders:) but have probably abandoned 'An Interesting Development', 'Illi', and 'Thorns of the Rose' forever. I'm sorry.

**(READ THIS) **On a happier note, I wanted to ask you all about starting a group story with me. The seed will be my one-shot 'In the Dark of the Night'. It will be a kind of contest: you write the chapter you think should come next, email it to me, and a panel picks the one they feel is the best. Just drop me a line to share your thoughts.


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